One Step Short of Angel
by Comicbookfan
Summary: Ryou Bakura can't take it anymore, so he ends it all. Or...so he thinks. But due to the nature of his death he must become a Wanderer. A Guardian Angel, for a group of messed up teens. What happens when your Guardian Angel is just as much a wreck as you?
1. Prologue: Regrets Too Late

** Something Really Beautiful  
**

AN/ I am trying, for once, to make an interesting fic.

WARNINGS: Mental illness, mentions of suicide and self-mutilation, some gory scenes, mentions of abuse, sort of character death, because, you know, Ryou died.

* * *

_Beep._

The long sound rang out in the room as the heart monitor flat lined. The doctors ran into the room.

"Come on! Come on!"

The Doctor placed the defibrillator on the boy's chest.

"CLEAR!" He pressed down.

The shock went through the young man's body and his back arched. But he lay down flat again, still not responding.

After two more tries, that was it.

Ryou Bakura was dead of blood loss from a presumable suicide.

* * *

Ryou opened his eyes. Wait...he shouldn't be opening his eyes. He was dead, wasn't he? Did this mean Heaven...or Hell were real? How could that be? It couldn't be. No. Heaven did not look like this. Nor did Hell. Was he hallucinating? He was in a giant plain that looked to go on forever, and it was all grey, even the cloudless sky, and filled with flowers. Dying roses, all of them, all of them grey. But the place still pulsed with beauty.

He wasn't wearing his normal clothes. In fact, he was wearing something very strange.

A t-shirt, slacks, and slippers, all the same blinding shade of white made of impossibly soft cotton. But the whole outfit also had intricate bright, blood red stitching winding all through it. And there were two glistening bracelets of a ruby color that seemed to blend into his skin. Wasn't that the place where he had slit his wrists?

He shivered.

"This can't be real..."

"Oh, but it is." A growly voice said behind him.

Ryou spun around, nearly screaming.

Behind him was a person who looked quite like him, only his eyes were red, his features were narrower, and he seemed much eviler. He was dressed in the same outfit as Ryou, only the stitching was silver and on his head he had a shining black tiara like thing. That made him look more powerful, but he still managed to look manly. There were no bracelets, and he shown with a bright black light.

"What are you? Where am I?"

"Where are you? You, idiot, are dead. You are in the Garden of Fate. Pretty, no?"

"Yes. And who are you? Are you Death?"

"Oh no, he's coming on later. I am the Angel of Decision. I decide whether you will be a Wanderer, a Upper Walker, as most who die are, or a Middle Walker."

"Huh?"

"Shut up, I was going to explain that. An Upper Walker is pretty much an Angel, but we call ourselves Walkers. All good people go there. Well, not necessarily good. You can be terribly mean spirited and awful and maybe even been in jail a few times, but you still go. And usually, after some time, they become nicer. If they don't, well, they get sent to be Wanderers. The Middle Land is pretty much Hell. For the abusers, murderers, and rapers, people who committed unforgivable crimes. Eventually, after several thousand or ten thousand or million years, they may get sent to Upper Land. The Upper Land is obviously Heaven. Got it? Stupid people..."

"And what is a Wanderer?"

"What you are going to be. A Wanderer, in your terms, is a Guardian Angel. This is for the people who die like you did. You are meant to keep other, miserable people, usually teens, from doing the same mistakes you did. You are meant to make their lives better in at least one way, maybe two."

"What is the way?"

"Well, this is obvious. It is helping them be happier, and maybe even helping them find Something Really Beautiful."

"What's that?"

"Anything."

"But I can't do this! I can't help them! I can't! And THEM! That means it'll be more then one person, I can't do that! I CAN'T DO THAT!" He was nearly hysterical.

The Angel of Decision sighed. "Sorry kid, that's the way it is. Wanderers most always get into The Upper Lands."

Ryou started to cry, the realization of his death hitting him hard. He was gone!

"Don't you want to see your mother again? Your sister? Your father?"

Ryou looked up.

"I can?"

"Duh. But only if you help these kids."

"How will I find them?" _More importantly, how will I help them?_

"You'll know. You'll be near them."

"How will I know who they are?" _The World is so big..._

"Damn it! Enough with the stupid questions! YOU WILL KNOW!" The obviously impatient Angel screamed.

"Bye bye." And he left.

"What! No! Come back! I can't do this!" The distraught boy howled to thin air, panic finally getting the best of him.

And he sobbed, curling into a ball.

His body turned clammy and his insides twisted. But he didn't have insides anymore. He tried to breathe, but it didn't work...He didn't have to anymore.

And now he was totally, completely dead.

He felt himself be hurled, a horrible swirl of colors through time and space. He soon blacked out.

He was so, so scared.

_-End Prologue-_


	2. Chapter 1: Something Wrong

**The Most Wonderful Thing in the World**

AN/ So glad for the reviews! Thank you to my reviewers. The characters all have pretty big problems, if you don't like one of the problems, deal with it. Tell me if Ryou's angel/ghost look is too cliched.

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. Don't own any of the songs in the soundtrack. I own the poems.

* * *

**Track 1**: Harder to Breathe-_Maroon 5_

_When it gets cold outside and you got nobody to love/You'll understand what I mean when I say there's no way we're gonna give up/And like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams/Is there anyone out there out there? 'cause it's gettin' harder and harder to breathe._

* * *

Ryou woke up.

Sort of.

Where was he now?

Had it all been some sort of feverish hallucination brought on by lack of blood?

He held his hand to his face and molten silver tears started to run down his face. His body glowed with a soft silver light and his hand was slightly transparent.

No...

Ryou Amelda Bakura was still very much dead.

He had been crying behind the patch of bushes he had woken up in for quite some time when he found the letter. It was written on old parchment gone soft with time. Even just the way it was written used to emanate power.

It read:

_Attention to: Ryou Bakura  
_

_Current Heavenly status: Wanderer_

_Dear **WR.** Ryou-_

_Hello. This is the Arch Angel of Wanderers Atemu. See, there are more of me, people who help Wanderers on their way to help humans. We were all once Wanderers ourselves. I am simply the most important. I am simply going to dictate to you the basics._

_You have been dead for two months now. You have been transported to Domino, Japan. Though you died in Kyoto._

_You are not a Guardian Angel. You are a mix between an Angel and a Ghost, you are a Wanderer. _

_Your incomitatus are very miserable people. You help them. Simple. It will be hard, but it usually works out._

_If your incomitatus have younger brothers or sisters or even older ones, it may be good to tell them that you are there._

_Bringing me to the next rule-human children can see you if you want them to see you. Human adults (the older sisters and brothers) can see you if they are close enough to one of your charges. Human teens can also see you if you want them to. Your charges are the only ones who can see you all the time.  
_

_Your charges can feel your touch. Nobody else can._

_You may be getting help from some other Wanderers. Who knows?_

_...This is because you have more charges than usual. You have five._

_You will be getting information on your incomitatus once you see them._

_Your incomitatus are not to know your name until you feel the time is right. The name we have assigned you is: Rosuto. _

_Thank you,_

**_Atemu, Arch Angel of Wanderers_**

Rosuto? Ryou was momentarily stunned at the strange name. Lost? He was supposed to tell his charges his name was 'lost'?

Another wave of sadness hit him. How was he going to do this?

_Certainly not sitting around feeling sorry for yourself._ An annoying little voice at the back of his mind told him. Even in death, the voice was there. That sucked.

But where was he supposed to find the charges?

_Instinct..._

Yes, instinct. Brushing away the tears, he stood up. Where was he? He looked up. A school. School. Teens. High school...

In there! Quietly, he slipped inside. Suddenly, everything came rushing to him. Everything since his death had been horribly surreal. But now everything was real and solid and even worse. He was scared. Really, really scared of all the colors and people and the way he didn't get jostled, just got people to go through him.

He pressed himself into a classroom.

He fixed his eyes onto a bookshelf. And with all his might willed himself to go up there. It didn't work. He deflated, finally going across the room and climbing the bookshelf. Climbing a bookshelf was rather hard when you went through it. But somehow, defying all laws of physics or whatever, he did it.

He sat, pulling his legs close to him, and watched, all day, he watched as students filed in and out and learned and nobody noticed him. It was a simultaneously beautiful and horrible thing.

He was finally unnoticed. He threw his head backward and gave a bitter laugh.

* * *

'Ha ha ha ha ha!'

A laugh. A laugh had suddenly cut through the air. It was a horrible laugh, one that could make you cry. It was like funeral bells, it was a pretty laugh, only this was the laugh of someone who had had the world give up on him (because it was a him) and was simply laughing about the pure stupidity of his naive faith.

Yuugi Motoh did not know how the hell he didn't notice the boy. Maybe it was because he didn't like paying attention to normal people.

But then he saw the boy, in all of his strange glory. Strange, pretty, clothes. Long white hair. A silvery glow around him. A sort of horror that rested deep in his eyes.

And the boy noticed him staring. Right at him. And for a brief moment he panicked. And then he seemed to relax almost forcefully and smiled a soft smile.

And Yuugi simply stayed there and stared the rest of the lesson.

* * *

He had seen him! The oddly small boy had seen him! He had found one of the incomitatus! For one second he did not see why the little boy was so sad as to need him, for he glowed with an innocent and trusting light. But there was something deep in his eyes, something betrayed. As though he felt betrayed by somebody or something who didn't really exist. And then Ryou saw why.

Because when the class was over, the oddly small boy pulled away from the desk he was sitting in with some difficulty. And he got up, screwing his face with something that might have been pain or resignation and showed his legs, under the school uniform, were covered in cheap plastic braces and when he walked he walked with some sort of walking stick and a soft, unnatural gait.

Ryou felt a sudden stab of pity.

After the school, Ryou walked around the city, wandering.

Just like he was, and wondered who he would meet next.


	3. Chapter 2: Fantasy

**Help Them **

AN/ Thank you to my reviewers, I am so grateful! But if you wanna read, review, okay? Oh, and by the way, the poem in this chapter is emo-rific. If you think the last one was sad...pshhh...you ain't read nothing... By the way, to the people who have read since the beginning, I changed the title and the last chapter. No 'most wonderful thing in the world' anymore. He just has to help them. This is a short chapter, but all of the intro chapters will be short. It's a good one, though.

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. Don't own any of the songs in the soundtrack. I own the poems.

* * *

**Track 2:**_ Fairy Tales_-2 Brothers on the Fourth Floor

_You must believe the fairy tales I tell you/Fight your dragon, find your way/To your castle, yes it's true/My fairy tales will help you through._

Still believe in fairy tales?

Even when the broken glass

Cuts and claws your skin

Still believe that some day

Somebody will save you

Do you still believe, child, do you still believe, little boy

But not so little any more, already fifteen

Yes, you still believe

Grasp onto your fairy tales with shaking, clawing hands

And you will never, ever, ever let go

Even when you say you have

Because the fairy tales keep you alive...

The 'happily ever afters' and 'once upon a times'

They are the thing that keeps you human inside

Even when you are too old for fairy tales

Your fairy tales-

Your life line.

* * *

Ryou had been a Wanderer for two weeks, and still felt as hopelessly lost as before.

Death was not working out like he had hoped it would. Currently the only one who could see him was the small disabled boy, who he hadn't seen again. He was too scared to see him again.

And the boy seemed to have dismissed him as a hallucination.

Until...

One day, he saw the boy again.

He was walking home from school, all alone, with oddly robotic steps.

Ryou followed.

Followed the boy up the steps.

The child sat on his bed and took off his braces.

His legs were slightly twisted, but it wasn't that bad. Probably even good enough to have the braces be taken off soon.

Ryou smiled slightly at this. Maybe this boys' problem would be fixed before he had to step in. Then he pulled back his hair, and the sudden flash of white caught the purple eyes of the child.

"Oh my God. It's you. You again. Why are you here? Get away from me!" This was all said in rapid succession.

"It's okay. Really. I promise I'm not going to hurt you! I'm Baku-I mean, Rosuto."

"That's your name?"

"Not really. But I'm not allowed to tell you my name yet. Not until you know me a little more."

"Are you an angel?"

"No. I'm a long way from angel."

"Are you a hallucination?"

"I'm a long way from that too."

"So what _are_ you?" The boy cried out in frustration.

"I'm a Wanderer."

"What's that?"

"I don't really know either. From what I've gathered, I'm like a Gaurdian Angel. But not really. More like a ghost. I'm not Gaurdian Angel material."

"You're dead?"

Ryou nodded.

"Why?"

"Because I was stupid."

Confusion shone in bright eyes.

"Let's not get into that. What is your name?" Ryou spoke stiffly and awkwardly, wanting to sound authoritarian and calming, like the angels in his old books.

He failed.

"Why should I tell you? I think you're just inside my head."

Ryou reached out and grasped his shoulder. The boy with odd hair cried out in terror.

"I can feel you! You can't feel hallucinations!"

Ryou had a feeling he would be encountering this same problem with most of the others.

"See? Now will you tell me your name?"

"Yuugi."

"Hello, Yuugi. I'm Rosuto."

"_Lost_. That's a strange name."

"I know. I didn't choose it."

"How am I supposed to know you aren't one big dream?"

"You just know." The white-haired boy was pleased that he sounded so mysterious.

"Okay."

"I'll be going now. If you want."

"Yes. Please."

"But first, tell me what's wrong with your legs."

"They're weak. I have polio. They're almost fixed, though. They should have been fixed years ago."

"All right. I'll let you rest, or do your homework."

"Wait!"

Ryou turned around. "Yes?"

"How are you dead? How old were you?"

"I died...I don't know...several months ago, or maybe weeks. It's foggy. I was fifteen. I killed myself."

Yuugi gasped in horror. "Why?"

"That's for me to know..."

Yuugi finished the sentence with him.

"And you to find out."

* * *

Ryou was afraid of finding and talking to Yuugi again, so he decided to find another one. It was all work.

He wandered around the hallways during classes, and hung around the unused lockers in between them. Still for a couple of days, he could not find any who could see him.

Until one day, a Tuesday. There was somebody wandering the halls. Ryou made eye contact with the boy. And the boy made eye contact back, pulling down his black ponytail nervously.

His eyes widened. Ryou flitted away before the boy could blink his emerald green eyes.

_Jackpot._

After school Ryou followed the boy home. It was a rich part of town, next to a large game shop, named the _Black Crown_.

While the boy detoured to the kitchen, Ryou found his room.

It was dim, and had stacks of games, almost as many as he had noticed in Yuugi's room. Sketches and blueprints for board games covered the walls. They were all very good. Atop the bed, which was large and covered with a red comforter, there were several books. The books, Ryou saw as he came closer, were fairy tale books. Hans Christian Andersen. The Brothers Grimm. But most of them were Brother's Grimm, and Ryou noticed that the happy endings were marked.

Ryou didn't understand this character, in fact, he didn't even understand Yuugi.

A cry of surprise came from behind him Ryou twirled around, facing a pair of shocking green eyes.

"Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing in my house?"


	4. Chapter 3: Stumbling

**One Step Short of Angel**

AN/ Hi guys, as you can see, I changed the title.

Please, only ONE PERSON (thank you so much for that) reviewed last chapter. I enjoy getting reviews. To help you along with that process, think of this: point out the stuff you liked in that chapter, the stuff that could have been better, and then any other notes. Also, I would like your thoughts on the poems. Thank you, and I hope I get more reviewers this chapter, because there was a lot of interest the first two chapters that I just didn't see for this one. These, by the way, are introduction chapters-he's meeting his comitatus.

**_Thank you to my one reviewer. Everyone should take an example from this reviewer._**

**_

* * *

_Track 3: **_Behind Blue Eyes-_The Who

_No one knows what it's like/To be hated/To be fated/To telling only lies_...

**

* * *

**The big green orbs of the boy stared hard at him, and Ryou stared back, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

"How the hell did you get here?" The boy whispered, dumbfounded.

Trying to act ghostly and mysterious, but coming across as timid and terrified, Ryou put a finger to his lips. "Don't talk too loud. Please. I'm just here to help..."

"What? Why did you break in to my house? My dad'll kill me if he thinks I invited anybody over."

"Don't need to worry about that."

"What do you mean?"

"I only show myself to you, a few others, and those who I want to be shown to, apparently."

The boy did not look convinced.

"Y'know, maybe you should just go. Go before I start to think I'm crazy. 'Cause I'm not. Leave now. I'm dreaming."

Ryou rushed toward him, putting a hand on his shoulder. The boy shivered softly, feeling the cold of Ryou's hand wash upon his skin, bringing in a dreadfully but beautifully relaxing feeling into his mind. His knees felt weak, so he sat on his bed, right next to an old worn out copy of a book of fairy tales.

"Maybe I'm tricking myself."

Ryou sighed. "That's what everybody says when I first show myself."

"What? Everybody?"

"There's been one other before you."

"Who?"

"That's for me to know, and you to learn. Just believe in me, okay?"

"Who are you?"

"My name's Rosuto. It's not really my name, but I can't tell you what it really is yet. I'm like a cross between an Angel and a Ghost, I think. I'm called a Wanderer."

"So you're dead?"

"Yeah. Yeah I am." Ryou still felt vaguely uncomfortable saying that.

"Why'd you come to me?"

"I think I've been assigned to be a kind of Guardian Angel."

"Huh? Why the fuck would I need a Guardian Angel? I'm fine."

"But I'm not really. This is kind of an alternative to hell, I think."

"Wha'? How'd you die?"

"I committed suicide."

"Why'd you do something stupid like that?"

Ryou glared. "It's not like you haven't thought of it before."

The boy looked stunned. "How'd you know that?"

"I wouldn't be assigned to help you out if you hadn't had some...eh...potentially life-threatening thoughts."

"Oh. Okay."

"What's your name?" The dead boy realized he had asked this at almost the end of their conversation, when the poor fifteen year old boy had started to look a bit shell-shocked.

"Otogi Ryuuji."

"Hi Ryuuji." Ryou knew that customs in Japan dictated that one would not call someone whom they had just met by their first name. He didn't care. He was dead, he didn't have to be polite anymore.

"Hi..." Ryou knew that if Ryuuji wasn't so freaked out at the moment, he would be quite arrogant.

"I think it's time for me to go." Ryou stood awkwardly and began to head out the door. "I think you should get some sleep."

_Angel knows best._

_

* * *

_The next day, Ryou walked along crowded streets, wondering how he was going to find the next 'comitatus' or 'incomitatus' or 'comi-something-something'. He really didn't care anymore. He was desperate to find the rest of the people. He felt it was like a race, and once all of the people were found the race would be over, he would have won it, and he could just be an angel, or whatever, in peace. Go to that paradise Death had been talking about.

He knew it wouldn't be so, but he tried to stay away from the thought that he was going to have to help all of these people.

And as he went through a dark garden, a huge garden, unaware that he had stumbled onto somebody's property, he cried out as he walked into somebody.

"Watch where you're going-" The words stopped, and Ryou found himself lying flat on his back, staring up into two bright blue eyes, coated in ice.

"What are you?"

And that was how Ryou Bakura met Seto Kaiba.


	5. Chapter 4: The Ill and the in Denial

**One Step Short of Angel**

AN/ Hi guys, as you can see, I changed the title.

Please, only ONE PERSON (thank you so much for that) reviewed last chapter. I enjoy getting reviews. To help you along with that process, think of this: point out the stuff you liked in that chapter, the stuff that could have been better, and then any other notes. Also, I would like your thoughts on the poems. Thank you, and I hope I get more reviewers this chapter, because there was a lot of interest the first two chapters that I just didn't see for this one. These, by the way, are introduction chapters-he's meeting his comitatus.

**_Thank you to my one reviewer. Everyone should take an example from this reviewer._**

CN/ I know, the track for this chapter is really obvious who the next person is gonna be-but this song is so perfect for Kaiba!

**_

* * *

_Track 3: **_Behind Blue Eyes-_The Who

_No one knows what it's like/To be hated/To be fated/To telling only lies_...

**

* * *

**The big green orbs of the boy stared hard at him, and Ryou stared back, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

"How the hell did you get here?" The boy whispered, dumbfounded.

Trying to act ghostly and mysterious, but coming across as timid and terrified, Ryou put a finger to his lips. "Don't talk too loud. Please. I'm just here to help..."

"What? Why did you break in to my house? My dad'll kill me if he thinks I invited anybody over."

"Don't need to worry about that."

"What do you mean?"

"I only show myself to you, a few others, and those who I want to be shown to, apparently."

The boy did not look convinced.

"Y'know, maybe you should just go. Go before I start to think I'm crazy. 'Cause I'm not. Leave now. I'm dreaming."

Ryou rushed toward him, putting a hand on his shoulder. The boy shivered softly, feeling the cold of Ryou's hand wash upon his skin, bringing in a dreadfully but beautifully relaxing feeling into his mind. His knees felt weak, so he sat on his bed, right next to an old worn out copy of a book of fairy tales.

"Maybe I'm tricking myself."

Ryou sighed. "That's what everybody says when I first show myself."

"What? Everybody?"

"There's been one other before you."

"Who?"

"That's for me to know, and you to learn. Just believe in me, okay?"

"Who are you?"

"My name's Rosuto. It's not really my name, but I can't tell you what it really is yet. I'm like a cross between an Angel and a Ghost, I think. I'm called a Wanderer."

"So you're dead?"

"Yeah. Yeah I am." Ryou still felt vaguely uncomfortable saying that.

"Why'd you come to me?"

"I think I've been assigned to be a kind of Guardian Angel."

"Huh? Why the fuck would I need a Guardian Angel? I'm fine."

"But I'm not really. This is kind of an alternative to hell, I think."

"Wha'? How'd you die?"

"I committed suicide."

"Why'd you do something stupid like that?"

Ryou glared. "It's not like you haven't thought of it before."

The boy looked stunned. "How'd you know that?"

"I wouldn't be assigned to help you out if you hadn't had some...eh...potentially life-threatening thoughts."

"Oh. Okay."

"What's your name?" The dead boy realized he had asked this at almost the end of their conversation, when the poor fifteen year old boy had started to look a bit shell-shocked.

"Otogi Ryuuji."

"Hi Ryuuji." Ryou knew that customs in Japan dictated that one would not call someone whom they had just met by their first name. He didn't care. He was dead, he didn't have to be polite anymore.

"Hi..." Ryou knew that if Ryuuji wasn't so freaked out at the moment, he would be quite arrogant.

"I think it's time for me to go." Ryou stood awkwardly and began to head out the door. "I think you should get some sleep."

_Angel knows best._

_

* * *

_The next day, Ryou walked along crowded streets, wondering how he was going to find the next 'comitatus' or 'incomitatus' or 'comi-something-something'. He really didn't care anymore. He was desperate to find the rest of the people. He felt it was like a race, and once all of the people were found the race would be over, he would have won it, and he could just be an angel, or whatever, in peace. Go to that paradise Death had been talking about.

He knew it wouldn't be so, but he tried to stay away from the thought that he was going to have to help all of these people.

And as he went through a dark garden, a huge garden, unaware that he had stumbled onto somebody's property, he cried out as he walked into somebody.

"Watch where you're going-" The words stopped, and Ryou found himself lying flat on his back, staring up into two bright blue eyes, coated in ice.

"What are you?"

And that was how Ryou Bakura met Seto Kaiba.


	6. Chapter 5: Tristan

**One Step Short of Angel**

**_Thank you to my three reviewers! Everybody should take an example from them._**

AN/ My last intro chapter, thank God. But...you must await Honda in next chapter!

* * *

**Track 5: **_Smile_- Nat King Cole

_Smile, though you heart is aching/ Smile, even though it's breaking/ You'll find life will be worth while/ If you just smile..._

**

* * *

**When Ryou 'ran' into Jounouchi Katsuya, he expected another terrible confrontation, with him being dismissed as a hallucination, due to the boy's tough looks.

But no, that wasn't what he got.

The boy had sunny blond hair and hazel eyes that smiled but seemed paranoid, unhappy, and angry in some way at the same time.

He had light skin, and wore black jeans and a white shirt, that certainly didn't help him fit into the walls. But it came close enough for him, apparently.

When Ryou went through him, he cursed himself as he realized his mistake, but applauded himself for finding another incomi-what's it so quickly.

His job was nearly over!

Well, not really. Not quite.

It would never really be over.

But going back to the present, he noticed the boy's amber eyes staring at him like they had seen a ghost.

...Oh, wait.

Never mind that, then.

"Um..." Was all Ryou could think to say.

The boy's eyes narrowed, and he almost growled. "What are you doing here?" He had some sort of accent that made him sound slightly thuggish.

"Um...well...er...looking..." Ryou stumbled over his words.

"Spit it out!"

"Looking for you, I guess."

"For me?" His eyes widened, and he seemed almost pleased that somebody (a ghost, no less.) would look for him. "Why me?"

"Well, you see, you notice I'm not here, right?"

"You seem here to me. Are you a ghost?" His eyes suddenly seemed more alive.

"Not really. I'm kind of a cross between an Angel and Ghost, I guess. I mean, you could call me a ghost because I'm here because I have some business to attend to. And you could call me an angel because that business is helping you. And a few others." Ryou had the distinct impression he was rambling.

"So you're a Guardian Angel?"

"...Basically."

"I'm Jou. What's your name?"

"Call me Rosuto."

"M'kay." The boy leaned against the wall of an old building and took out a cigarette and lighter, setting fire to it expertly, than sucking in some some smoke. He took it out of his mouth and laughed bitterly. "This is dumb. I'm not supposed to believe in this shit."

"But I'm really here." The boy said hopefully, the statement seeming more like a question.

"Yeah. I figured. Can you touch people? Maybe you really are real. Show me."

Ryou was stunned at how easily it was going, and wondered if Jou was also insane. But he seemed perfectly normal...Ryou laid a hand on the other boy's shoulder, and the guy sucked in some more smoke and smiled.

"Cool."

Then the blond one turned slightly to him, and in his eyes the dead boy could see raw desperation. That kid wanted...no..._needed_...a miracle. "Am I going to see you again."

"Yes. I'll find you, somehow."

He nodded and they stood in silence until the cigarette went out, leaving only a column of smoke wafting through the air and the orange glow of a dying ember.

Jou flicked the cigarette to the ground, crushed it under the heel of his shoe, and headed to his home. He turned back one second, facing the other person who was with him. It was late at night, so the ghost was glowing brightly.

"I'll see you." The white form called.

Jou, seemingly in a dream-like shock, merely nodded. "Okay." And he went to his apartment, leaving Ryou to rejoice, not even wondering why the miracle-hungry boy had accepted him so quickly.

He was just glad he had, and he wasn't about to make nature change it's course.

Now, he just had to find Kaiba.

_Four down, one to go._

_

* * *

_Finding Kaiba wasn't too hard. He did live in the largest place in Domino City.

It was a huge house, and Ryou slipped through the gates easily, relishing in the fact that nobody saw him. Of course, it wasn't all that different from his invisibility in his old school.

But, he reminded himself, he didn't have to worry about how to get through the day.

He just had to worry about how to get through death. The biggest thing that was ever going to happen to him, death. The thing he had worked so hard to get. It didn't turn out like he'd wanted it to.

It wasn't eternal rest, it was just more work.

He shivered at the strange feeling of walking through doors. It made him feel so free. He didn't think he was happier than he had been in life, though. He wasn't happier at all, he noticed, pained.

He felt lost in the giant house with the giant rooms. Until, finally, he gave up, though it was late at night, it was obvious that Kaia wasn't home yet.

He wondered if the boy lived with anybody else.

His question was answered as he looked into a giant, elegant, lit dining room.

There was a little boy, sitting there, silent. He played with his food slightly. The boy had long, shaggy black hair, and was small in stature. He had a beautiful face, and gray-violet eyes.

It was an almost beautiful scene, seeing the boy sitting at the giant table in a chair that was too large, swinging his feet.

There were empty seats all around him.

Ryou took one. The child didn't notice him as he studied his face, and that was obvious. He wasn't one of Ryou's charges.

But he seemed slightly happier, as though, in some way, he had sensed the others' presence.

So Ryou stayed there until he heard footsteps coming down the hall, a sharp clacking sound.

He ran out of the room, running into another one.

It was small and empty.

Sound came from the dining room.

"Why did you stay up so late, Mokuba?"

"I was waiting for you, Seto."

"Well. You should get to sleep."

"You should too."

"I will. I'll be there in a second."

"Promise."

"Hn."

There were sound of softer foot steps running past the door.

Ryou smiled slightly. Kaiba had a brother.

As he stepped out of the room, he pretended he didn't see a flash of turquoise.

Must have just been a trick of his mind.

He had to find Kaiba, and he did, seeing him, and he followed him all the way to his room before he noticed while he had begun to work on his lap top.

"Ugh. What are you doing here?"

"Um...trying to...convince you...?"

"Convince me of what?"

"I-I'm real?" It came out unfirm and more like a question than a statement.

"Please, feed me another idiotic story."

"I'm not real?"

The boy glared. "I'm not up to your idiocy right now."

"So you think you're seeing things?"

"No. You're just not there."

"So you're seeing things."

"I am not!"

"But you're saying I'm not real, but you're talking to me, which must mean I'm either a hallucination or real. Are you insane, Kaiba Seto?" He had found the flaw in Kaiba's words, and was desperately using that against the boy.

"Not at all. You are either one of my holograms gone wrong, or a dream."

Ryou put his hand on Kaiba's shoulder, as a last resort, but took it off when the boy flinched away, though maintaining his cool face and posture.

"Do you finally admit I'm real?"

The boy glared.

"Do you?"

The boy turned back to his work, whatever work he had. It had just struck Ryou that it was strange for a fifteen year old boy to have so much work.

"What do you work at?"

"CEO."

"Wow."

"..."

"Please talk to me."

"..."

"Admit I'm real, please!"

"..."

"Come on!"

"..."

"I'll do anything! I'll tell your brother I'm here. And he'll see me. I can make him see me."

"Don't you dare!"

"Thank you! Don't worry, I won't. I never was going to. Just...please, Seto. Please come to a meeting near the school, in the park next to it."

"No. That place is dirty."

"I'm sorry I couldn't book Buckingham Palace."

"Fine. I will, just don't bring him into this."

Ryou knew who he meant, and also knew that Mokuba could not be unaware forever. But he placated Kaiba's over-protective energy by saying that. Basically, he lied blatantly.

It didn't make him happy, but it didn't make him sad, either.

* * *

The next day, he communicated to the other four that they would be meeting after school on Saturday in the old, abandoned play-ground he had found.

They all said they would, but he didn't know, really.

He didn't know what to think or what to feel or even what to do.

* * *

The next day, finidng himself not corageous enough to find the boys, he headed to the old park himself.

And nearly shrieked when he noticed somebody on the swings.

He looked about...eighteen, nineteen maybe. His skin was light, his hair was brown and in a completely ridiculous style.

And, he glowed.

He didn't glow in that old cliched way like in Romance novels, the way that wasn't real.

No, he really glowed.

"Oh my God." Was all that Ryou could say, in a thin voice.

The man looked up, smiling, dusting non-existent dust from his American army uniform.

He was a Ghost.

Like Ryou.

"Hello." The man said. "Do you speak English?"

A mute nod.

"Great! I'm Tristan Taylor."

"...Are you dead?"

"You could say that, yes."

"Why are you here?"

"Wait, what's your name? You can give me your real one."

"Ryou." The younger one's British accent dripped into his English words.

"I'm here to help you."

"Oh. Why?"

"Well, I step in when some Wanderer isn't coping too well. It's what I do, I help people cope."

"Are you a Wanderer too?"

"Huh, no way!"

"Then what are you?"

"Okay, let me tell..."

* * *

_Next Chapter: Tristan's (Honda's) story! The incomitati meet! _


	7. Chapter 6: Nobody Stays

**One Step Short of Angel**

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Slightly sexual situation at the end  
**

**Track Six: **_The Old Apartment-_The Barenaked Ladies

_Why did you change the lock?/Why did I have to break it?/ I only came here to talk._

* * *

It was day one of the meeting, Ryou had gotten into the Kaiba home into the boy's room, and he couldn't be more nervous.

It seemed that the other day some of the boys just couldn't stand each other at all. That was a problem, and a pretty big one.

Eventually, there was a ring at the front door. Ryou wondered what would have happened if he could sweat, and decided that he really didn't want to know.

Somebody opened it, and Ryou heard the oddly cheerful voice of Malik float down the halls. "Yep, here for a group project. The others should be here soon. Where should I wait?"

A little while later, he entered the room, looking at Ryou and smiling slightly.

It's days like that one that made him seem socially capable, where you could barely realize that there was something wrong with him. Ryou had yet to see the bad days, and had some sort of perverse curiosity about them.

Neither boy said anything. They heard somebody else come through the door, walking down the halls with a bounce in his step that screamed 'Jou'.

Jou smiled at Ryou, and nodded slightly at Malik.

Eventually, Ryuuji arrived, penetrating the silence with the clack of his shoes on the floor as he practically sashayed into the room, humming slightly, and closed the door behind him, nodding to each being in the room.

Then there were only two people left. Kaiba came before Yuugi. Yuugi seemed to always be late, for some reason.

Kaiba stared at all of the people in his room with a stormy look on his face, and scowled, turning away from them.

Jou glared.

Malik did nothing.

And Ryuuji smirked.

After a while, Yuugi got to the room, and smiled.

"Hi." He nearly whispered, and the others in the room, not including Kaiba, of course, either nodded or smiled back.

They sat in awkwardness for a while before Kaiba spoke. "I was dragged out of work for this?"

That brought Ryou back to Earth. "Oh, sorry. Do you have anything you want to talk about?"

Then he noticed something strange. "What happened to your hand, Malik?" The hand in question had been bandaged loosely and carefully.

Malik looked uncomfortable, and shifted from his spot on the ground. "Nothing." He lied.

Ryuuji snorted. "Please. Something happened."

"Fine...yesterday was kind of tough for me. My sister was on a business trip and I don't take to change well. I smashed my hand into a window."

Jou frowned. "Why?"

Malik shrugged. "I don't know. Can we please talk about something else? I just told people I don't know something sort of personal. It's your turn." He gestured to Jou.

"Me? I've got nothing personal to tell."

Ryou sighed. "Stop arguing. Come on...you must have something to say, Jou."

Malik rolled his eyes. "Why does this suddenly seem like my group therapy?"

The other blond in the room replied to Ryou's earlier question. "Nothing really happened. My dad was out all night."

The white-haired boy's interest was piqued. "Doing what?"

"I don't really know, don't really care."

Ryou sighed. "Fine. Yuugi?"

"Malik's right." Yuugi exclaimed. "This does seem like therapy."

"Well, in a way, it sort of is, right? Honestly, I'm new to this. What else am I supposed to do?"

("Preferably something less cliched," Ryuuji mumbled, and Ryou rolled his eyes. He did not want to deal with this.)

"I suppose. And nothing at all happened. I slept. I went to a doctor's appointment, and I played games. And went to school, obviously. That's my normal week."

Jou snorted. "Figures. You were always game obsessed."

"Everybody likes games!"

"Not everybody."

"I'm sure that everybody here does."

"How would you know?"

"I can tell!"

"Oh, so now you're the freaky little midget psychic."

"I'm not a midget. And it may not seem like it, but I have a temper."

"Oooh, I'm scared."

Ryou decided to interrupt. "Okay...who here likes games?"

Everybody said, in some way, 'yes'.

Yuugi smiled at Jou, something that was probably meant to be a smirk but didn't quite reach that level. "Told you!"

Jou actually smiled. "Fine. You win."

Ryou sighed in relief, grateful that the ice seemed to have melted between at least those two. "Anybody else have anything to say?"

Kaiba didn't say anything and Ryuuji shrugged. He looked slightly troubled, suddenly, and tugged on his pony-tail in slight discomfort.

"Ryuuji? Are you sure?"

"Hmm? Yeah. Sure. Just kind of distracted today."

The whole meeting had lapsed into some kind of sickly calm before the storm.

Ryou quietly said. "Well. We'll meet in a couple of days here, okay? I'm sure you'll all have more to say."

Ryuuji perked up. "Does that mean we can leave?"

Kaiba snorted. "Don't sound too enthusiastic, Otogi."

Jou's eyes narrowed, suddenly remembering that his 'worst enemy' was there."Why don't you say anything Kaiba, if you're so smart?"

"I didn't think I had to. My intelligence fairly seeps through me, doesn't it? Maybe some of it'll manage to get to you. Heaven knows you need it."

Jou growled. "You jerk!"

"Dog."

"Don't call me that!"

"But you're just like one. I'm just describing your true nature."

"You stuck-up asshole!"

"At least I'm not a lowly village idiot."

"Yeah? Then what are you?"

"The lord."

"Oh, come on."

The others had watched the exchange in an almost amused manner. Ryou still couldn't pin-point just what made them dislike each other so much.

They just _did._

_

* * *

_That night Ryou decided to follow Ryuuji home.

The life the boy led seemed normal enough. Mysterious, even, in a way.

He wondered what was going on, and why he had seemed so uncomfortable in the meeting that day.

When the fifteen year old entered the large flat, he looked around almost suspiciously."Hello?" The word echoed through the beautifully decorated and furnished but cold place. Satisfied with no answer, the boy stepped inside and headed to his room.

After a little while, his phone rang. Ryuuji smirked as he listened to whoever spoke on the other line. "Really? Sure. No problem...I'll be right over. Kisses."

He left the house taking no notice of Ryou, who followed. Eventually, he got to an apartment. A girl opened the door. She looked much older, and something about her, though Ryou felt bad about thinking it, screamed 'slut'.

_So these are the kind of people he spends time with. Note for later._

Ryuuji shot her a smile, and as soon as they got inside, they shared some words, next to each other on her fake-velvet couch. The carpet had an old wine stain next to where Ryou was standing, unnoticed in the shadows. Eventually, they moved towards each other with almost clinical precision, laying next to each other, and Ryou left after that. Things were becoming a little too much and he didn't quite know what to do.

That was his first wake-up call into just how tough this 'Wanderer' thing would be.


	8. Chapter 7: Taking Advantage of Beauty

**One Step Short of Angel**

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Slightly sexual situation at the end  
**

**Track Six: **_The Old Apartment-_The Barenaked Ladies

_Why did you change the lock?/Why did I have to break it?/ I only came here to talk._

Mind

Swirls and swivels

Colors and pictures

Love and chemicals

And life-

That is the human mind.

* * *

It was day one of the meeting, Ryou had gotten into the Kaiba home into the boy's room, and he couldn't be more nervous.

It seemed that the other day some of the boys just couldn't stand each other at all. That was a problem, and a pretty big one.

Eventually, there was a ring at the front door. Ryou wondered what would have happened if he could sweat, and decided that he really didn't want to know.

Somebody opened it, and Ryou heard the oddly cheerful voice of Malik float down the halls. "Yep, here for a group project. The others should be here soon. Where should I wait?"

A little while later, he entered the room, looking at Ryou and smiling slightly.

It's days like that one that made him seem socially capable, where you could barely realize that there was something wrong with him. Ryou had yet to see the bad days, and had some sort of perverse curiosity about them.

Neither boy said anything. They heard somebody else come through the door, walking down the halls with a bounce in his step that screamed 'Jou'.

Jou smiled at Ryou, and nodded slightly at Malik.

Eventually, Ryuuji arrived, penetrating the silence with the clack of his shoes on the floor as he practically sashayed into the room, humming slightly, and closed the door behind him, nodding to each being in the room.

Then there were only two people left. Kaiba came before Yuugi. Yuugi seemed to always be late, for some reason.

Kaiba stared at all of the people in his room with a stormy look on his face, and scowled, turning away from them.

Jou glared.

Malik did nothing.

And Ryuuji smirked.

After a while, Yuugi got to the room, and smiled.

"Hi." He nearly whispered, and the others in the room, not including Kaiba, of course, either nodded or smiled back.

They sat in awkwardness for a while before Kaiba spoke. "I was dragged out of work for this?"

That brought Ryou back to Earth. "Oh, sorry. Do you have anything you want to talk about?"

Then he noticed something strange. "What happened to your hand, Malik?" The hand in question had been bandaged loosely and carefully.

Malik looked uncomfortable, and shifted from his spot on the ground. "Nothing." He lied.

Ryuuji snorted. "Please. Something happened."

"Fine...yesterday was kind of tough for me. My sister was on a business trip and I don't take to change well. I smashed my hand into a window."

Jou frowned. "Why?"

Malik shrugged. "I don't know. Can we please talk about something else? I just told people I don't know something sort of personal. It's your turn." He gestured to Jou.

"Me? I've got nothing personal to tell."

Ryou sighed. "Stop arguing. Come on...you must have something to say, Jou."

Malik rolled his eyes. "Why does this suddenly seem like my group therapy?"

The other blond in the room replied to Ryou's earlier question. "Nothing really happened. My dad was out all night."

The white-haired boy's interest was piqued. "Doing what?"

"I don't really know, don't really care."

Ryou sighed. "Fine. Yuugi?"

"Malik's right." Yuugi exclaimed. "This does seem like therapy."

"Well, in a way, it sort of is, right? Honestly, I'm new to this. What else am I supposed to do?"

("Preferably something less cliched," Ryuuji mumbled, and Ryou rolled his eyes. He did not want to deal with this.)

"I suppose. And nothing at all happened. I slept. I went to a doctor's appointment, and I played games. And went to school, obviously. That's my normal week."

Jou snorted. "Figures. You were always game obsessed."

"Everybody likes games!"

"Not everybody."

"I'm sure that everybody here does."

"How would you know?"

"I can tell!"

"Oh, so now you're the freaky little midget psychic."

"I'm not a midget. And it may not seem like it, but I have a temper."

"Oooh, I'm scared."

Ryou decided to interrupt. "Okay...who here likes games?"

Everybody said, in some way, 'yes'.

Yuugi smiled at Jou, something that was probably meant to be a smirk but didn't quite reach that level. "Told you!"

Jou actually smiled. "Fine. You win."

Ryou sighed in relief, grateful that the ice seemed to have melted between at least those two. "Anybody else have anything to say?"

Kaiba didn't say anything and Ryuuji shrugged. He looked slightly troubled, suddenly, and tugged on his pony-tail in slight discomfort.

"Ryuuji? Are you sure?"

"Hmm? Yeah. Sure. Just kind of distracted today."

The whole meeting had lapsed into some kind of sickly calm before the storm.

Ryou quietly said. "Well. We'll meet in a couple of days here, okay? I'm sure you'll all have more to say."

Ryuuji perked up. "Does that mean we can leave?"

Kaiba snorted. "Don't sound too enthusiastic, Otogi."

Jou's eyes narrowed, suddenly remembering that his 'worst enemy' was there."Why don't you say anything Kaiba, if you're so smart?"

"I didn't think I had to. My intelligence fairly seeps through me, doesn't it? Maybe some of it'll manage to get to you. Heaven knows you need it."

Jou growled. "You jerk!"

"Dog."

"Don't call me that!"

"But you're just like one. I'm just describing your true nature."

"You stuck-up asshole!"

"At least I'm not a lowly village idiot."

"Yeah? Then what are you?"

"The lord."

"Oh, come on."

The others had watched the exchange in an almost amused manner. Ryou still couldn't pin-point just what made them dislike each other so much.

They just _did._

_

* * *

_That night Ryou decided to follow Ryuuji home.

The life the boy led seemed normal enough. Mysterious, even, in a way.

He wondered what was going on, and why he had seemed so uncomfortable in the meeting that day.

When the fifteen year old entered the large flat, he looked around almost suspiciously."Hello?" The word echoed through the beautifully decorated and furnished but cold place. Satisfied with no answer, the boy stepped inside and headed to his room.

After a little while, his phone rang. Ryuuji smirked as he listened to whoever spoke on the other line. "Really? Sure. No problem...I'll be right over. Kisses."

He left the house taking no notice of Ryou, who followed. Eventually, he got to an apartment. A girl opened the door. She looked much older, and something about her, though Ryou felt bad about thinking it, screamed 'slut'.

_So these are the kind of people he spends time with. Note for later._

Ryuuji shot her a smile, and as soon as they got inside, they shared some words, next to each other on her fake-velvet couch. The carpet had an old wine stain next to where Ryou was standing, unnoticed in the shadows. Eventually, they moved towards each other with almost clinical precision, laying next to each other, and Ryou left after that. Things were becoming a little too much and he didn't quite know what to do.

That was his first wake-up call into just how tough this 'Wanderer' thing would be.


	9. Chapter 8: Evenings

**One Step Short of Angel**

_Thank you to my reviewers last chapter! Everybody should take an example from them!_

_WARNING: Non-graphic child abuse at end of chapter, some sexual references, alcohol_

_

* * *

_Track 8: See the Sky About to Rain-Neil Young

_See the sky about to rain/Broken clouds and rain/Whistle blowing through my brain/Signals burning on an open flame..._

_

* * *

_It was a short while before the next day, and Ryou headed over to Yuugi's house.

He watched him sleep, silently.

Letting out a soft sigh, he brushed a bang away gently from Yuugi's face. Sometimes it was so easy to forget the boy was fifteen years old, and just pretend he was a child. He left before the boy woke up, feeling ever so slightly calmer. He had a feeling that in a short time, Yuugi would be the most depended-on person in the group. Other than himself, of course, a thought which he shuddered at, even though it wasn't cold. It wouldn't have mattered if it was-he couldn't feel cold anymore.

He had blocked Ryuuji out of his mind, the thoughts of him making him a little depressed.

* * *

School passed quickly, with the five incomitati stubbornly going out of their way to avoid each other.

And then, home.

* * *

Malik stepped through the door of his home, flicking on the dim light. "Hello?" He called out softly in Arabic, glad to reverse back to his original language.

Nobody seemed to be home.

Feeling ever so slight disappointment, he ventured into the kitchen, where on the counter there was a note.

_Malik,_

_Rishid and I will be gone most of the day. We'll be home soon after you leave for school tomorrow._

_Love,_

_Isis_

Malik felt an uneasy feeling in his chest, replaced by slight anger, irritation. He headed to his room to work on his homework, counting his audible steps on the floor to permeate the silence slightly.

Sitting at his desk, he found he couldn't concentrate on his English translation, and groaned softly, resting his forhead on the cool wood.

Breathing regularly and loudly, just so he could hear himself, he continued working on his translation, finding his dictionary and translating the thing absentmindedly, not remembering anything.

The only reason Malik ever tried in school, and subsequently got very good grades, was because Isis wanted him to. She was obsessed with getting him into a good college.

He was certain it was something she had read in those parenting books she was always buying. In fact, he had read several of those books when bored.

He had noticed a lot of things that had to do with what Isis told him and did written almost word-for-word.

He found it almost disturbing, like finding a loved one's stash of drugs under their bed. He had stopped reading with fascination through the copies when he had encountered _Raising Teens With Mental Illnesses._

He felt horribly guilty that he made her worry all the time. So he tried not to make her worry in the one aspect of his life that he could actually help her not worry with: school.

Eventually, he moved on to Math, a great relief. He liked Math, because unlike so many other things in life, it never changed.

Later at night, he realized he had completely forgotten to eat, and dragged himself to the kitchen to make himself some food. As it cooked, he lounged on the counter.

Late in the night, after several failed hours of getting to sleep, he looked under his sister's bed, wondering if the stash he was looking for was still there.

_Score._

He read parenting books late into the night, having no idea why on Earth he was so interested.

* * *

When Yuugi walked through the door of the closed game shop, he looked around, finally feeling able to breathe easier, being around an enviroment which he considered safe.

His Grandfather was in the kitchen reading a newspaper with a cup of lukewarm coffee next to him. He gave an absentminded 'hmmm' of acknowledgment to Yuugi when the boy passed him.

Yuugi smiled at him, finally getting to the foot of the stairs.

The stairs, being steep, were his burden and a cruel reminder of his physical weakness, considering the fact his room was upstairs. Almost every two or three steps, he had to sit down and catch his breath, cursing his bad legs all the way.

When he finally managed to get upstairs, he sat on the cushy, carpeted floor of his room on a pillow and worked on a new puzsle. He put it back together in a bit more than fifteen minutes. The puzzle was very large, and had small pieces, but things like that came to him easily.

He thought that it would probably be a good idea to start his homework, but only got about half of his Math homework done. He liked Math, because it was almost like a puzzle, but it bored him, it really did.

He started on his English translation, getting almost all of it done before getting bored of it again. He did only a bit of his History homework-reading from a textbook-before he decided that it would be easier for him to just not do it and guess when the teacher asked him any questions.

It wasn't that he was a slacker. He just wasn't motivated.

Soon enough, he went downstairs. He hated the fact that he couldn't be stealthy. The metal wrapped around his shoes really didn't help much, and even when he got the braces off, he would probably have to use crutches or something to help with walking on bad days.

He ate dinner quickly, thoughts clouding his brain, not really listening to the conversation he was supposed to be having with his Grandfather.

He wasn't feeling tired, but found himself going to sleep early anyway.

* * *

Kaiba strode through the revolving door on his way to his office in Kaiba Corp.

Employees stayed far away from him, because though he was young, that didn't mean he couldn't be nasty when he wanted to be. Most of the time, he left everybody alone as long as they didn't get in his way, because they were, after all, below him. But sometimes he would get angry at people, he would fire people. But he didn't do it as often as the tabloids depicted him doing it.

Honestly, ever since he had gained power over Kaiba Corp. a few years back, he and Mokuba had been tabloid darlings. Kaiba had been depicted from everything from a horrible womanizer, a child abuser, and so on. And he was none of those things. He knew that only idiots believed the tabloids, but they still made him angry.

He sat down at his laptop, typing away at the keys. Checking how Kaiba Corp. was doing in the stocks, how shipping was going, and taking numerous calls from Corporations. At least that day he didn't have any meetings. He hated meetings. They were boring, stressful, and made his chest hurt more than he wanted it to.

He deeply immersed himself in work, chasing away all thoughts about the supposed supernatural being that was supposed to help him get away from his problems.

_Please. I have way too many of those to eliminate even one._

Eventually, the only reason that, at one o' clock in the morning he left the place, was because the building was closing.

And he wanted to see Mokuba.

Obviously, Mokuba would be asleep by then.

He got home at about one thirty, walking through the doors, only to see, in the living room, Mokuba. The boy was in his pajamas, obviously having been waiting for his older brother to arrive. The butlers and maids, used to the silent ritual, had put a blanket over the boy once he had fallen asleep.

Seto walked over to his brother, looking down at him, and emotions flickered in and out of his eyes. He petted back the boy's hair, kneeling down to his height, and smiled ever so slightly before getting up again and looking down at the boy.

"Good night, Mokuba."

* * *

Jounouchi picked up the bottle, letting it go almost immediately afterwards, swearing loudly and sucking the blood from his finger.

Ow...

His father had thrown another bottle at him as he walked through the door back from school. Old news. The old man's reflexes sucked, so Jou pretended not to care as he tried to pick up the glass from the floor and didn't succeed very well. He had already led the old man back to his room and let him go to bed.

Sitting down on the couch, he began to do his homework, and didn't really finish. He had so many other things to worry about.

He missed his sister.

He didn't miss his mother as much, though he tried to. In his eyes, for taking his sister away and leaving him with the man who became a monster every time he was intoxicated, he didn't really love her all that much.

His eyes drooped at about eleven o' clock at night, and he nodded off, snuggling into the couch, feeling the warm, coarse material around his skin.

It smelled like beer and vomit.

It smelled like dad.

A few tears rolled down his cheeks before he managed to scrub them away.

* * *

Ryuuji walked in to his house, quietly, and went up to his room.

He looked around the place. It wasn't bad. It was personal. It was his haven. He grabbed a book of fairy tales that he had on his bed, flipping it open and reading it. He couldn't help but smile when he got to the happily ever after. He liked reading about those.

It was nice reading about somebody getting love and happiness forever.

He just wondered if he could, some day. Quietly, he slipped his hand around the pendant he wore on his neck. His mother had given it to him. He had never been one to keep something for sentimental value, but...sometimes, it was nice, just to be able to remember her by feeling the ridges of the necklace.

Eventually, he started on his homework, finishing his English translation easily. He was fluent in four different languages, English one of them. It was a piece of cake.

He had always had trouble with math, and numbers. He didn't like the rigidness, and often found himself switching around 16's to 62's without noticing. And he worked so hard on it. Eventually, he knew that unless he got help, he was going to stop trying. After a little while, he just gave up on the torture of math, and went downstairs. It was about ten, and he hadn't noticed the door opening and closing.

He felt like maybe eating something.

But then he heard soft footsteps.

Ryuuji could hear his dad.

The man was walking around the house, and the boy froze.

_Shit._

He had meant to make a run for his room, hope his father didn't notice him. He did.

The man's face was scarred, but he wore a dark hat that shadowed his face most of the time.

"Ryuuji." He spat out the name as if it were poison.

Ryuuji bit his lip, but stuck out his chin and struck an arrogant pose, curling his hands into fists and trying to keep them from shaking.

"Yes?"

"What've you been doing?" The man spoke coolly, but Ryuuji had a feeling he may have been drinking. Or doing other drugs...

No. Gambling. He had been gambling. And probably drinking while gambling.

And it sounded, by the sound of his voice, that the gambling hadn't gone well.

He knew what that meant.

_Damn..._

"Um, just working on homework."

"Huh. Dunno how you're doing in school. Not too well, likely. Always been stupid like your whore of a mother."

Ryuuji winced. "Um...actually, I do pretty well." He muttered.

The hit was hard, and he held his cheek and winced. "Ow."

"Don't talk back to me."

He said nothing. When his father wanted him to shut up, he shut up.

He felt himself get pushed back roughly, feeling like a rag doll. His father wasn't usually violent. Usually it was just words.

"Dad." He choked out warningly. _I will sic the cops on you, don't think I won't. Child Services will have your ass._

The man snorted, leaving.

Ryuuji walked up to his room. He didn't notice there was wetness rolling down his cheeks until he had already gotten into bed.

* * *

Ryou just walked, and he walked, and he tried to find inspiration, or some kind of helpful manual for Wanderers, or something.

But mostly he just enjoyed the night, and the peace. He didn't have to sleep, but he sat under a tree and slept anyway, just like his three incomitati sleeping in their different houses, with their different lives, all over the city.


	10. Chapter 9: A Poison Filling

**One Step Short of Angel**

_Thank you to my reviewers last chapter! Everybody should take an example from them! (Wow, fifty reviews! Thanks!)_

_By the way, I've changed Ryou's age when he died to seventeen, which I think makes more sense. If you hadn't even noticed his age when he died...well...seventeen. By the way, everybody else is fifteen. Except for Tristan...he's kind of pushing a hundred... But according to birthday's, Malik would be the youngest._

_WARNING:  
_

_

* * *

_Track 9: _Savin' Me_- **Nickelback**

_Show me what it's like/ To be the last one standing/ Teach me wrong from right/ And I'll show you what I can be..._

_

* * *

_It was another meeting day, and Ryou was...worried, to say the least.

He wanted to see his charges again, but he didn't really want to hear them fighting.

He walked along the busy streets nervously, at the very edges, all the solid people passing through him and scaring him half to death the first few times it happened. He peered into a shop window, and, unable to see his own reflection, he could see the clock. School was almost over.

He set of to Kaiba's house on a run. He would _not _be late. That would be awful.

Thankfully, he got there early. Walking in tentatively, he saw nobody. With nothing to do, he decided to look around. There were a few maids in the house, and one butler, but not many.

The place was huge.

He walked into the Dining Room again, but this time, he didn't see Mokuba sitting at a chair, all alone.

No. He saw a boy, sure. He was about Mokuba's age, perhaps a little smaller. He was thin.

His hair was what his eyes were directed to at first, a deep turquoise green.

The boy was sitting on the table, swinging his legs.

Ryou cried out in surprise, and the boy's eyes were directed toward him. His brow furrowed, and he cursed angrily, jumping from the table and fleeing.

"Wait!" Ryou called after him. The boy was already gone.

It was easy to see what the boy had been. A Wanderer...or perhaps a Ghost, if those existed. He seemed young to be a Wanderer.

But his skin had glowed and been just...magical...enough to show Ryou that the kid was definitely not a welcome or even known of part of the Kaiba household.

_What? I didn't know there were others..._

Well, of course he did...after all, he had met one. But he thought that somebody as young as that kid would certainly be an Upper Walker.

_Maybe he just died a while ago..._

Something told him he hadn't though.

It was an unsettling thought, so Ryou shook it away, leaving it resting in the back of his mind as he decided just to climb up the stairs and wait for the others in Kaiba's room.

* * *

Yuugi had come early, and he was the first of the charges in the mansion, he just knew it. But obviously, it wouldn't be much help being early, considering that the elevator seemed to have failed on him just as he was punching the 'open' button.

_Why me? _He wondered miserably as he turned toward the long, winding stairs.

_And why on Earth are the stairs so...impractical?_

Apparently, everything in the world had been created just to mess with him. Lovely.

He was about ready to cry after he had gone up half of the stairs, and sat down miserably on one one of them.

Soon enough, he was just about ready to get up...before...

"Hello?" The voice was high and tentative, that of a younger boy's. Yuugi scrambled to his feet as well as he could and smiled kindly.

"Hello. I'm here for a group project meeting, and I'm trying get up to your brother's room." It was obvious that, even though he had not met him until that moment, he knew who Mokuba was.

Almost everybody did.

"Oh." Mokuba blinked, noting their place in the middle of the staircase. "Isn't the elevator working?"

"No. It's alright, though...I'm almost there."

"I'm sorry about the stairs, they're not that practical, but I guess the architect thought they just added a nice touch." He laughed, embarrassed.

"Oh, don't worry." Yuugi continued walking up the stairs, Mokuba next to him. "It's just a bit hard getting up. Though I agree the architect was a little out of it when he designed this place."

Mokuba laughed. "Who are you again? I think I've seen you around."

"Motou Yuugi. You're Kaiba Mokuba?"

"Obviously."

Finally, they reached the top of the stairs, having had a nice conversation, and Mokuba pointed out the way to Kaiba's room to Yuugi before leaving.

_Nice kid._

Yuugi opened the door, and walked inside. Rosuto was there, and he greeted him, sitting on the bed and settling down.

Nobody came for a little while, until Jou. The much taller boy nodded to Yuugi and Ryou, sitting on the floor. He smiled slightly at Yuugi, and the other boy looked surprised.

_Had he reformed in some way? He used to bully me...but he stopped. I think he stopped hanging around bad people too. _He smiled back tentatively.

"So...what re we dong today, Rosu?" He did have a habit of shortening names.

"Nothing really, I suppose. I guess it's up to you guys. You can work on homework or something."

Sometimes Yuugi wondered exactly how much Rosuto had planned out and how much was spur-of-the moment randomness.

Jounouchi made a face. "Yuck."

Yuugi laughed. "I can help you."

"With what?"

"School. I'm pretty good at it."

"Cool." Jou shot a smile at Yuugi.

After a short while, Ryuuji walked into the room. "Hey." He mumbled.

Jou snorted. "You look like shit."

Ryuuji glared. "I'm sorry I don't meet your high standards of fashion and beauty, your Royal Pain in the Ass."

Jou glared, before Yuugi interrupted. "What happened to your face?"

The black-haired boy looked confused at the caring tone of voice in which the words were used. "What?"

Ryou walked toward him. "He's right. Your face is swelling."

"What?" The boy ran to a mirror, looking at the angry purple and red bruise, highly miffed at the way it marred his superficial beauty, which was _kind of _how he got through the day on, so he wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of being ugly until his bruise healed. "Shit. It's nothing. Just...yeah, nothing."

The blond boy in the room raised an eyebrow. "Ch. Yeah right."

He turned toward Jou. "Right! It was an accident."

The fight was prevented from brewing as Malik walked into the room. "Hello."

Ryuuji turned toward him, blinking. "Ishtar-kun." He said in a monotone.

Malik rolled his eyes. "Don't call me that."

"Call you what?"

"_Ishtar-kun. _I'm not Japanese. I don't call people with honorifics...they're pretty useless, once you think about it."

"Oh."

"What happened to your face?"

"Nothing!"

"Mm'kay, whatever you say."

Ryuuji pouted and Malik smirked. Another fight was conveniently stopped by Kaiba walking in to his room, looking irked at the fact that he, for once, was the last person to arrive at a meeting.

He sat at his desk.

The whole room was huge, but stifling. Something about it seemed to not have much space for breathing. Perhaps it was the windows, and the curtains drawn over them. Or the fact that the place only contained essential furniture, like a bed.

Ryou smiled meekly, addressing the whole group. "Hello. How's it going?"

Despite the bad days everybody had had the other day, they all said something about everything being fine.

"O...okay...Ryuuji! What did you do yesterday?"

The boy referred to jumped, seeming to have been spacing out. "Hm? Nothing. Homework. Yep."

"Al...right...Yuugi?"

"Nothing interesting. Just completed a puzzle I'd been working on and did some homework."

"Alright...Kaiba?"

"Work."

Jou snorted. "What a surprise."

Kaiba retorted. "Just because you never work, mutt, doesn't mean everybody else slacks off too."

"Hey! I don't slack off! And I ain't a dog."

Yuugi and Malik spoke, automatically, at the same time, correcting his words. "Am not."

Ryou smiled. "Malik?"

"Nothing really...had a lot of homework...Isis and Rishid...sister and brother if anybody was wondering, which I doubt...were gone...kind of sucked..." The last part of the sentence was mumbled, and nobody really heard it except Kaiba.

The boy raised his eyebrow. "You read parenting books?"

"Yeah. They're like the only books Isis owns. Interesting too."

"Well then...Jou?"

"Nothing really. Stayed out late. Slept. I think I did homework at some point, kind of blurry."

"I somehow doubt that."

"Shut up, Kaiba!"

"Guys! Don't fight...just..." Ryou was at loss for words. "Do whatever you want."

Everybody began to get up. Ryou sighed. "_Except leave."_ Everybody sat down again. "Okay, that's obviously not going to work. Um...let's see..."

Ryou thought for a minute and everybody watched him. "How many of you regularly do and finish your homework? Raise your hand."

Hey, he didn't have another way to take count.

Kaiba and Malik were the only two.

"Great...you can finish your homework here. And there are enough people to ask if you don't understand something. I'm sure everbody's good at some subjects."

Yuugi looked at him curiously. "What about you?"

"You can ask me about homework. It's been a while since I've been in your grade, but I'm sure I can remember. I wasn't a bad student."

"Question." Kaiba said coolly. "Why are we doing this?"

"Because you guys won't talk or do anything productive at this time, and until something interesting happens, we're just going to have study sessions. Hey, it improves life, I'm not breaking any rules here."

Ryuuji looked at him. "He's like milk chocolate with a poison filling."

Malik, from his place next to him, laughed.

The slightly older boy looked pleased, taking out his Math homework. Malik took out his English translation, and was at about half of it before he realized that Ryuuji seemed to be concentrating very hard on his Math homework. But he was only on the second question.

And had gotten the first problem completely wrong.

He poked Ryuuji's shoulder to get his attention and the boy glared. "What?"

He pointed at the sheet of Math. "You did the first one wrong. Switched the plus to a minus, and the 61 to a 16. And the 56 to a 95. And you aren't dividing the fraction, you're multiplying...I don't even know what you did."

Ryuuji felt a sudden and violent urge to chuck his Math textbook at Malik's head. Thankfully for Malik's safety, he was able to control himself.

"Well, then what are you supposed to do?"

"Well, it's actually really simple...just review. You'll understand it. Didn't you understand it when the teacher explained it?"

Ryuuji had a faint mental vision of himself looking at the chalkboard and trying desperately to understand the Math talk the teacher was spewing, while his mind could barely _divide_ without messing up and then giving up and filing his nails.

"Yeah, of course."

"I don't believe you." Then Malik began to explain the homework.

_He's only at a fifth grade level at most..._ He thought, considering Ryuuji's confused look. _When did he stop understanding all of this?_

They began to puzzle out the questions.

Meanwhile, Jou and Yuugi were working on some reading for Literature class. Jou wasn't a _bad _reader, he was at an average level for his age, but some things just went over his head. Such as the whole conflict, plot, and speech in _The Odyssey._

"Wait...so this Homer guy just spent like half a page comparing this lady's eyes to _water?"_

"It's called a Homeric simile, Jou."

"A _what?"_

Ryou had to hand it to Yuugi. The kid had a patience of a saint. As did Malilk, considering how well he seemed to be explaining...whatever they were doing... to Ryuuji.

He smiled happily, walking over to Kaiba. "Hello. Do you need any help?"

Kaiba looked up at him in disgust, having finished his English translation, Math, and literature homework already. "Do I look like I need help?"

"Um...not really."

"Exactly. _Leave."_

It was beginning to get dark when the boys left Kaiba's home, and Kaiba was cursing the stupid Wanderer that had made him lose precious working time. But, on the bright side, which he usually only looked at when he was really, _really _desperate, he had finished his homework.

_Ugh._

_

* * *

_The rest of charges walked home. One to a house that had just been inhabited, but only for a while. One to a house that was inhabited only by a passed out male. One to a house where everything was quiet and the only sanctuary was games. And finally, one to a house that was empty-and thank goodness for that.

And Ryou just walked the whole night long.


	11. Chapter 10: Risk Taking

**One Step Short of Angel**

_Thank you to my reviewers last chapter! Everybody should take an example from them! _

_WARNING: Language, some very briefly hinted homosexual themes, very slight sexual content_

_(Argh. Bad chapter.)  
_

**Track Ten:** _Last Night- _The Traveling Wilbury's

_Last night/ Talkin' 'bout last night/ Last night/ Thinkin' 'bout last night_

* * *

Ryou felt odd.

He hadn't felt this odd since the first day he had died, and then it hadn't really been _odd._ It had been more like..._devastated._

He had an odd feeling, and wondered if anybody was trying to communicate anything to him.

But the odd feeling left as quickly as it came...he thought nothing of it. And it really was nothing.

_I'm getting paranoid._ He sighed.

His feet began to walk, and he merely let them guide him, not realizing he wasn't paying attention to anything that was going on and feeling oddly free. He had days like those, it seemed, where everything, even for just a little while, seemed so perfect.

He couldn't feel anything- at least not outwardly.

He could do whatever he wanted...

_Because he couldn't die._

The thought suddenly seemed horrifying, and he tried to shake it from his mind, before realizing that he had walked right up to the Kaiba Estate. Not out of his own accord.

_A higher being?_

He had never been religious when he was alive, and was no more religious when he was dead, despite the fact that he knew there was some sort of paradise out there. But there had been times when he was feeling depressed, when he would head to a Church and just stay there for hours, looking through the stained glss windows. He could see himself reflected in him, only his reflection wasn't his normal colors, but yellow, or green, or blue...

...He wondered how on Earth he had managed to get to _Churches _from the Kaiba Estate. He realized he wasn't paying attention, and was in the Dining Room, yet again. He wondered what on Earth was going on. Then he saw him.

The green-haired boy that he had seen before was standing there. Ryou ran or jumped toward him (he wasn't quite sure what) and grabbed a fistful of the boy's shirt before he could run away.

He realized that the shirt wasn't the soft cloth with the red stitching Ryou had on, or anything near.

No. It looked..._normal._ Just a basic button up white shirt tucked into brown shorts that ended right after the boy's knees.

The kid snarled. "What do you want?"

"I...I just want to talk to you, please! I'm not going to do anything to you...as far as I know, I can't. Are you dead?"

The boy blinked owlishly up at him, before heading over to the Dining Room table and jumping on it, swinging his legs childishly like he had before.

"What's your name?" His voice was guarded, his eyes cold. He almost reminded Ryou of Kaiba. _Almost._

"Um..."

"Tell me your real one. I know what your thinking! You can't get away with any of that fake name bullshit with me."

"Very well. Bakura Ryou. Now you tell me."

The boy hesitated before stating quietly. "Kaiba Noa."

"Kaiba? Like Seto? Are you another one of his brother's?"

Noa's eyes became cold. "I am no brother of Kaiba Seto or Kaiba Mokuba."

"Really?"

Noa rolled his eyes silently. "Really. Seto and Mokuba were adopted a while after I died. Three years after that my father committed suicide. He's in hell now."

"You mean a Middle Walker?"

"I suppose. I guess hell fits him. But the Angel of Decision didn't think hell or heaven fitted me quite yet when I died. I was in a coma for a while, and father told them to pull the plug. Euthanasia isn't very acceptable in the cosmic structure of the universe or whatever. They said I had unfinished business. They were right, 'cause after a while father got Seto and Mokuba."

"And?"

"And what? And I'm jealous! Well, not really. Not jealous. But they took my name! That isn't right!"

"Well, if they were adopted..."

"I don't care! I am the only real Kaiba in this house!"

"Wait...so, are you a Wanderer?"

"Hm? Um...no. I'm a ghost."

"There's really such thing?"

"Obvious, isn't it?"

"Do you protect anybody."

"No. I haunt the place, hello. I don't protect anybody. Sometimes I follow around Mokuba and stuff...not maliciously. I'm not a malicious ghost. I really don't do anything. I don't know what on Earth god or the angels or whoever the heck is up there expect me to do. I want to move on already." The whole rant was said rather huffily.

"When did you die?"

"I was...eleven. Or maybe twelve. I can't remember."

He blinked, confused. "Why are you here?"

"I'm a Wanderer. For Seto. And some other people too."

"Oh..."

"I was seventeen. I committed suicide."

"What? Why'd you do that?"

"Why does everybody ask me that? It's not like I'm proud of it or anything. I did it because I was depressed and no more, no less."

"Oh...kay. Why am I even talking to you? God. Go away. I don't want to speak with you!"

"Al...right...?"

Noa glared slightly at the other boy, jumping from the table. "Don't disturb me! Ever! Again!"

Ryou just left.

* * *

In the same mansion, about seven hours after the confrontation between Ryou and Noa, Kaiba Seto was trying to look something up.

He usually didn't look things up on Google or anything like that...but he had to do something.

He had to figure out Rosuto's name.

Then he could hack into his files, find out exactly why he died.

He typed in. 'Rosuto.'

Several Japanese sites popped up, but nothing important.

He knew that wouldn't work. He wanted to find out more information about his 'Guardian Angel', but decided to give it a shot later.

Pushing his fingers to his temple, he let out a sigh, feeling suddenly very tired.

It wasn't all that different from how he usually felt, and he walked over to hisbd, sitting down upon it and putting his head in his hands. It hurt. It always hurt.

"Nii-sama!" The piping voice belonged to his brother. "Are you alright? You're home really early."

"I'm fine Mokuba."

"Okay. But why did you come home so soon?"

"No reason. I just didn't have any work left to do."

"You always have work to do. Are you not feeling well?"

"I'm fine!" Kaiba snapped.

Mokuba sighed, leaving.

* * *

A couple of days later, school had begun again. Throughout the whole day, the incomitati didn't even look at each other, avoiding one another just like they always did.

Ryuuji yawned as he walked home, stretching out his arms. He had been feeling tired for the last few days.

He got home, and sat on his bed, thankful that nobody was home.

Eventually, the phone rang, and he answered it. "Moshi moshi?"

"Hello? Otogi? It's Hika. Do you remember me?" The voice was high and slightly grating.

"Oh, hello." He did briefly remember a Hika. A tall, slightly older girl with a fake chest and nose. Yes, indeed he remembered her well.

"Well, my friends and me were wondering if you'd like to go to a minors club...y'know..."

"I know what a minors club is, Hika-chan...and I'd love to go." He practically purred into the phone.

Sighing as he hung up the phone, he knew he didn't have any other option. Hika was just another girl, among all the other girls and boys he knew and had one night stands with.

He pulled on his coat and pulled his hair into a tighter ponytail, heading out. He met up with Hika, at the club, and several of her friends. Boys and girls looked at him, sizing him up, and he knew that on their scales one to ten, he was hitting the highest number possible.

Honestly, the place may have been the most risque under-age night club in Domino, but it was nothing like the nights spent underage partying.

The night was fairly boring, and the music too loud, just like at all the nightclubs he had ever been too. He just sat back with some water and watched people dance and make out on the dance floor, trying to tell which couples were really couples and which would end up as one-night-stands.

He was pulled into the dance floor several times, going through the motions and then retiring. Eventually, he decided to just leave. The place was boring, filled with wannabes and nobody who would make intelligent conversation with him. Of course, he didn't usually ask for intelligent conversation.

In the end, he just went home, realizing it was one am, the night had been a waste, and there was school the next day.

* * *

The next day, the incomitati avoided each other as they had the other day at school. The meeting was at Kaiba's house after school and they wanted nothing more than to forget about it. But, of course, they couldn't.

The last day had been stressful. Ryuuji, with his bad choice to go out with Hika and her friends, Yuugi had had a doctor's appointment, Kaiba never got any rest and was always grumpy, so no change there, Jou with his father having had friends over had stayed up all night, and Malik had just not been able to sleep.

Probably the only interesting thing that happened was when an exchange student from New York was introduced in some of their classes, whose name was Mazaki Anzu.

After school, they all headed to Kaiba's place, trying not to bring attention to the fact that they were all going in the same direction.


	12. Chapter 11: Journals

**One Step Short of Angel**

**_Thank you to all of my reviewers! Everybody should take an example from them!_**

**_AN/ Weird beginning, they're just character blurbs from when the characters were littler...um...I don't really know why I added them, no. (By the way, I try not to use the same band or singer for the songs, but...)_**

**Track Ten: Help!- The Beatles**

_Help!/ I need some body/ Help!/ No just anybody/ Help!/ You know I need some one/ Help..._

* * *

_My name is Ryuuji and I am eleven years old._

_My mother is dead. My father is angry at me, mainly because of that._

_I don't exactly understand why, but I'm a smart kid. I know it...wasn't my fault. That's what the books tell me._

_And what the books say is law._

_...Really._

_I don't really care that mother died. I got nothing from her but her good looks._

_Because she was beautiful, and so am I. I know it, I can see it in everybody's eyes, when they look at me for the second time. __Who is that beautiful boy?_

_It's true._

_At least I have something, if I'm beautiful. I may not be smart, I may not have friends, but I'm beautiful. _

_Hey, that's enough for me. People may say it's vain...I guess so. I don't really care._

_

* * *

_

_My name is Malik, and I'm thirteen years old._

_I live in Egypt, and I don't often leave the house. Father was very paranoid about that. He would get really angry if I left the house. Because of this, I was ten before I left._

_I'm going insane, by the way, before you approach me to talk to me and are disappointed by my strangeness._

_I see things that aren't really there. You know what sucks? It's really rare for people my age to get mental illnesses like the one I have. I'm not sure what it's called, except for the hallucinations._

_My sister doesn't know, my brother doesn't know...my father is dead, so it's obvious he doesn't know._

_My father killed himself last year. I still don't know why. Isis won't tell me. I hate being ignorant.  
_

_We're moving to Japan, Isis says. We have plenty of money to fund the trip. That's funny...I didn't know we had that type of money. She says that there are great psychotherapists there, and to hang on until then, please.  
_

_It takes a lot out of me, getting 'visited' by my non-friends._

_I want to sleep all the time, and I have really random mood swings._

_...Sometimes I just want to die and get it all over with._

* * *

_My name is Yuugi. I'm eight._

_My daddy is working today, and I don't really have anybody to talk to, so it's lonely._

_Sometimes I get tired of all of this. My mother doesn't live with me, like my father, so I don't have her to talk to either. And Grandpa's always sleeping. It's the only thing he ever does._

_I can't go outside and play with the other kids. Nobody lets me, and the kids don't like me either. They say I'm a cripple, and I can't keep up with their games. I am a cripple, but the braces on my legs are supposed to be helping that. They're really un-comfy, though._

_But I have my games and my puzzles. I can make puzzles really easy, and I like cards too. Those are games I can play all by myself._

_I don't care for playing with the kids, running around and getting all muddy and sweaty._

_I don't want to play their stupid games anyway._

* * *

_My name is Katsuya, I'm nine._

_I have a sister, and her name's Shizuka, and she's my favorite person in the world._

_But then my mom had to go take her away. I know it's wrong to hate mom, 'cause all the teachers say hating is wrong, but I hate her all the same._

_I hate dad too! I have a sense of what's right and what's wrong, y'know? And everything about dad is just totally wrong. _

_He's got nothing, we live in a little apartment on the bad side of town, and he has a dead-end job...nah, as far as I know, he doesn't even have a job._

_I don't want to end up like that. The teachers may say that I don't care, but I really do. It's just kinda hard to break out of concrete that's already dried. That's a metaphor. See? I do listen in school.

* * *

_

_My name is Ebina Seto, I'm eleven years old, and I live in an Orphanage._

_I'm just counting the moments until I can get out of here...everybody wants to have me...but they don't seem to want Mokuba as much. Mokuba's MY little brother, and I'll be damned if I leave him in this place._

_Everybody wants to adopt me because I'm a genius, and that's no understatement. My Intelligence Quota is apparently 'freakishly high', according to the people who tested me when I was six._

_My father was still alive then, he died the next year. My mother died a couple of years before. She died giving birth to Mokuba..._

_I'm not happy here. I don't think I'm ever happy here or around here...maybe I'll never be happy anywhere. _

_But maybe I still have a chance. Scratch that, maybe Mokuba still has a chance. I'm just counting the moments._

_

* * *

_It was quiet in Kaiba's room, before Ryou cleared his throat nervously. "So...anything interesting to say?"

Ryuuji looked through him, Kaiba typed on his computer, Yuugi studied the ceiling of the room, Malik just wasn't paying attention at all, and Jou hummed the theme to an anime under his breath.

The non-mortal in the room sighed. "Guys...guys...am I even getting through to you at all?"

No, not at all.

He groaned. "Listen!" Nope, nobody was listening.

"NOW!" He basically screeched, losing his patience for half a second. Most everybody there jumped and looked up at him in dismay.

Malik yawned. "Sorry, Rosuto. You were saying?"

"Well, do you have anything interesting or important to say at all?

A chorus of 'no's' sounded around the room. "Why are you all so tired, then?"

Nobody answered. "A bad night?" Everybody nodded slightly. "Oh. So, nothing at all happened in school today?"He knew the questions he was asking were lame, but he was trying to keep his charges awake.

"Um...there was a new girl in class." Ryuuji volunteered half-heartedly.

"Really?"

"Mhmm...seemed okay."

"What was her name?"

"Can't remember."

Yuugi was the one who remembered. "Mazaki! Mazaki Anzu!" He cried out triumphantly.

"Oh. Well...that's nice." He didn't want to talk about his idea yet. "Nothing else?"

"Would you just stop asking?" Kaiba finally snapped in exasperation. "We don't have anything to say!"

"Fine, fine...well, do any of you keep...journals." Alright, it wasn't any less lame than the other thing he had said, but it was something different.

Jou snorted. "That's for girls!"

"No! I kept a journal when I was alive. Barely wrote anything in it, but I had it."

"Then I guess you were girly!"

"I was not girly! Girls crawled all over me! I never actually had a stable relationship, but I did have fan clubs."

"Ya did? Woah. Like Otogi."

"I have fanclubs?"

"Hell yeah, you haven't noticed."

"...Nope..."

"Chhh...you have to have."

"Nuhuh."

"Prick."

"Dog."

"I ain't a dog!"

"Okay, both of you, stop, before you start fighting!"

Ryuuji and Jou shut up.

"Well, even if journals are supposedly for girls, I want you to get one."

Malik raised an eyebrow. "You sound like a parenting book. They're always advising parents to get journals for their kids."

"Well, parenting books are in the right."

Ryuuji rolled his eyes. "Hah! This venting out feelings thing didn't work for you."

"Shut up, Ryuuji." Ryou hissed quickly. "It'll work for you. I mean, imagine it as a school assignment. Write a few sentences every day for...um..."

"Two months." Yuugi suggested.

"Two months."

Kaiba rolled his eyes. "You're trying too hard. This sounds like a 'Seizonkinan' movie."

"Yeah." Ryuuji agreed. "The kind where the corageous teacher helps the unwilling, poor, unfortaunate students and ends up, like, transforming them."

"Well...I don't expect you to be transformed or anything...but it could help, couldn't it?"

Kaiba glared. "First you tell us that we have to meet like this, and now you want me to waste valuable time with a girlish hobby? I don't think so."

"Please? Please? It's two months! It can't be that hard."

Kaiba sighed. "Very well. As long as you answer a question for me."

"What kind of question?"

"Where did you die?"

Jou snorted. "Well, that's not creepy at all."

"Shut up."

Ryou fidgeted. "Um...why do you want to know?"

"Curiosity." The fifteen year old boy deadpanned.

"Well...Kyoto." He mumbled.

Kaiba nodded, tucking the information into his mind.

The uncomfortable silence was broken by Yuugi. "So...are we doing this...assignment?"

"Yes. You have to."

Ryuuji smirked. "What makes you think we will? You aren't going to read it."

_Or so you think..._an evil little part of Ryou gave a Cheshire-cat smile and chuckle. "I can be scary when I want to be."

Ryuuji frowned. "Did he just threaten us?"

The others shrugged.


	13. Chapter 12: Kitty

**One Step Short of Angel**

**_Serious thank-you to all my readers out there._**

**_Warnings: Mentions of alcoholism, and...Anzu is a nice person. Just remember that. I should have mentioned this in the beginning of the story-but Anzu is going to be featured in this story, and she will be featured sympathetically. If you are an Anzu-basher, please don't talk about that in your reviews. You can mention you don't like her. The boys still have the main parts, Anzu really isn't such a big character._**

**_(AN/ Ha! I'm FINALLY thirteen!)  
_**

Track Twelve: _Wonderwall_-Oasis

_Because maybe/ you're gonna be the one to save me/ because after all.../ you're my wonderwall..._

"Hey." A laid-back voice said, casually, in English.

Ryou jumped and nearly shrieked.

Hyperventilating (no _fair..._he didn't know that could happen when he didn't have to breathe anymore), he looked over at the person who has surprised him. "Tristan!" He gasped. "My god, you scared me." He fanned himself with his hand.

Tristan laughed loudly, imitating the poor boy "my _god, _you scared me", he mimicked in an over-done British accent, fanning his face girlishly and making his voice higher by about two octaves. Ryou was not amused. He made it known.

"Ch. I'm not amused." He stated.

Tristan, smirking, chuckled a little. "Sorry. Didn't know you got scared so easy, Kiddy."

Ryou looked at him oddly. "Did you just call me _Kitty_?"

"No. I called you _kiDDY._ Note the d's. But...kitty. Heh. You do look kind of fluffy." Ryou had a feeling Tristan had just gotten a nickname, and bit back a groan.

Tristan grinned widely. "So. How's work been going?"

The other boy looked less cheerful. "Okay. But it doesn't seem I'm going to heaven any time soon, yet."

"Why?"

"Well, Yuugi hasn't changed much, he's still rather meek. Jou still smokes and gets awful grades and so on. Ryuuji has random flings with girls, and I think boys too. Kaiba just doesn't interact with anybody, he's like a gigantic block of ice. Malik...er...Malik's a bit of a mystery. But last time I checked he still had basically nobody to be around. All of them are lonely as hell. Though I think some of them actually are making friends with one another."

Tristan looked exasperated. "Golly, I don't know what the Powers That Be were thinking. You got a group of kids that are...pretty messed up. Pretty big responsibility for a suicide."

Ryou groaned and buried his head in his hands. "Whyyyyy? Why did they choose me?"

"No idea. Maybe they were short on Wanderers."

"Alright, Tristan, continue being amazingly helpful, please. Or maybe you could be even more helpful than you already are and tell me what I'm supposed to do."

"I'd have to say to...try to delve into each of their seperate lives just a bit more. Maybe you'll find out something that explains the behavior of something...remember, when you're a Wanderer, personal space means nothing."

"So you're telling me to butt into their personal lives like I actually mean something?"

"Exactly! Because you actually do! You're a guardian angel, Kitty," Ryou groaned at the nickname.

"Very funny. Alright...I understand what you're saying."

"Good. 'Cause it's real fine talking to you, but I've gotta jet."

"Great. You're an immense help, Tristan."

The boy-by-nature-and-appearance smiled cheekily. "Aren't I?"

Then he left.

* * *

Yuugi sat at his desk, swinging his legs and rolling his pencil up and down the wood of the table. He smiled slightly, almost forgetting about his problems, the very picture of innocence.

He was at the very side of the room, in the back. He knew he couldn't see so well from the back, but he didn't want to intrude on anybody's space. Nobody ever sat in the back. He sighed a little, flipping his pencil into his hands and tapping it a couple of times on his desk.

He hummed absentmindedly to himself, but noticed a shape next to him. He supposed it was another student, probably looking for her or his friends.

"Excuse me?" He heard a high, sweet, but somehow assertive voice say. "Could I sit here?" She tapped the desk next to his.

Looking up at the girl, he ntoiced who it was. "Sure. You're...Mazaki Anzu, the new student, right?"

"That's me. And you're?"

"Motou Yuugi."

"Cool! Maybe we could be friends?" She said the last word rather fervently.

He bit his lips, swinging his legs. "Hm. Maybe..." He felt unsure. His legs were shadowed, so she couldn't see it.

_She'll probably be disgusted when she sees how uncool I am. It's too bad, though. She seems nice. But she'll get picked up by the preps and the cool people soon, she's certainly pretty enough to be snapped up quick. Perky enough too._

He was brought out of his wistful thoughts by Anzu. "So, how is it in this school?"

Surprised he was talking to her, he snapped his head around to face her. "Huh?"

She giggled. "How is it in this school?"

"Oh...it's okay."

"Is that it? Are people friendly here?"

_Not to me._

"To you, they'd be, probably. You look like the kind of person who'd make lots of friends."

Anzu smiled. "Maybe. But...what kind of people should I hang out with?"

"Oh, I don't really know. I'm not too socially involved, but I think that you should trust your judgement. If they don't smoke anything funny or beat up on people weaker than them, they're okay in my book, at least."

The girl next to him smiled sincerely. "Mine too. Well, you know what they say, great minds think alike."

Yuugi felt warm after hearing that, and shot her one of his most winning smiles. "Thanks."

Soon, other kids started filing into the room, chatting about inconsequential things and laughing at perverted jokes. Yuugi looked at all of the groups of friends, and suddenly wished he could be part of a group like that. Eventually, the teacher made the kids shush, and he gave up his personal, depressing thoughts for work. It was a welcome change.

During Lunch, he watched the popular, preppy girls, led by Nosaka Miho, quickly snatch Anzu up.

Nosaka wasn't as mean as some other people, but she felt pity and slight disgust for Yuugi, and because of this avoided him.

He didn't quite know if Anzu had noticed the braces on his legs, but knew she would know about them before Lunch was over.

Over at the table where the girl occupying his thoughts was sitting, she asked her new acquaintances about him. "Who's that Motou kid? He seems really friendly?"

Miho raised an eyebrow. "Friendly? Him? I mean, he's nice, but he's way too shy."

One of the other girls piped up. "And the leg thing."

The green-haired girl nodded. "Yeah, the leg thing."

"What leg thing?"

"He, like, has this problem...he's crippled. The teacher was talking to him about it, because of some doctor's appointment he'd been to. I heard something about some sickness that started with a...a 'p'?"

The brown-haired, blue-eyed girl knew what she was talking about. "Polio?"

"Yeah, that. Well, like I was saying, he's not boyfriend material."

"Oh, I don't want him for a boyfriend. But as a friend, he seems okay."

"Huh, maybe. I never really tried to become friends with him. I don't think anybody ever did. He's kind of weird, even beside the leg thing."

"...Oh."

Miho was engaged in a different conversation five seconds later. Anzu decided that the other girl was okay, but a little bit of a ditz. She admitted she could be airheaded sometimes, but honestly.

* * *

Anzu looked around the school, spotting some random people here and there. Ugh, she couldn't find her class!

Frantically, she looked for a face that she recognized. Catching a glimpse of purple eyes, she raced toward them. But it wasn't Yuugi...some other guy. An attractive guy with a strange sense of fashion, light purple eyes, and sandy blond hair. He looked at her oddly.

_Oh, screw it. _"Hi. Do you know where class 2-A is?"

He blinked slowly. "Yes, in fact. Come with me."

She followed him, not making any small talk. He didn't seem like the small talk...type. She didn't even know what type he was.

He pointed out the door to her, and turned around, heading down the hallway before she could say thank you.

* * *

Ryou whistled as he walked, not feeling cheerful at all, but the whistling really did help. Kind of.

Sort of. Not really.

But...that wasn't the point.

He didn't really know where he was headed. He decided to go to Jou's house. He wasn't sure where it was...but...he had all the time in the world.

After a few minutes, he found the house.

Inside, there was a man who looked like he had seen much better times.

Much, much better times. His face was gaunt and his hair was ragged. One of his legs hung off of the couch. He suddenlt felt very bad for the man, Jou's father, no doubt. Glass bottles were strewn all around, he noted.

_Jou shouldn't have to live like this._

He headed to Jou's room, quietly entering. There, on his bed, was a flimsy notebook.

On the first page, written messily, were the words _JOURNAL._

Interest piqued, he turned the page, finding nothing very important or Earth-shattering.

_Dad was drunk today. not new. _Were the words that were messily scrawled onto the page.

_he's always drunk. it's kind of annoying sometimes. i mean, is drinking really that important? apparently._

After that, the entry ended.

Ryou had a little bit of information after reading that. Jou's father was an alcoholic, and it was most likely that Jou lived with him and only him. The boy stepped out of the room and ghosted away, across the street, and far from Jou's home.

_Maybe I should head to Ryuuji's._ He pondered that. He wondered if Ryuuji had written anything in the journal, and thought he probably hadn't. Yuugi...might have. Malik? Maybe. Kaiba? Negligible.

He groaned. He didn't really know what to do, so he went with his first thought and went to Ryuuji's, wondering if the boy would be there. He wasn't, so Ryou decided to explore.

The place was obviously belonging to a rich family, and scary clean.

He walked upstairs, heading to Ryuuji's room. Ryuuji's room was fairly neat, a kind of orderly chaos, or a place that would be chaotic if it wasn't so...neat.

There were still the fairytales all over the place.

There was a notebook open on the boy's desk, but it was obvious it wasn't his journal. Just a place where he kept some sketches, apparently. Ryou looked through the notebook. The sketches were good, and there were sketches of people that looked like game pieces or RPG characters, game plans, and so on.

For some reason, dice seemed to be a reoccuring theme throughout the pictures that had been drawn.

There were monsters made completely out of dice, there were especially detailed pictures of men in a bar, slumped over dice.

_Maybe it means something._

The whole room, other than those things, was obviously fairly normal. Ryou decided to come back later to see if there was anything he had missed.

He decided not to visit any other houses, because he didn't want to be seen snooping around there by anybody who was around.

Anyway, it was already dark.

_All in a day's work._


	14. Chapter 13: Lack of Willpower

**One Step Short of Angel**

**_Serious thank-you to all my readers out there._**

**_Warnings: Talk of suicide, language_**

**Track 13: **_Broken_-Lifehouse

_I'm falling apart/ I'm barely breathing/ with a broken heart/ that's still beating..._

**_

* * *

_**Kaiba stared at the the computer, looking over the little information he had gathered up so far.

_I don't even know his name._

But, nonetheless, he searched 'Kyoto'.

Obviously, lots of stories came up for Kyoto. Because he supposed Rosuto had still been a high school student when he had died, he searched 'high school' on the search engine. It was extremely obvious that he wasn't going to find anything important.

_Maybe...physical description? Not many people look like him. Of course, that could just be because of this whole 'Wanderer' shit. _

He shrugged. _Might as well give it a try._

He typed in _white hair, brown eyes+Kyoto+high school+death._

He couldn't find anything immediately, but on about page thirteen, he noticed something.

_Local high school in shock over seventeen year old student's recent death..._

Kaiba's eyes gleamed as he looked on the page, at the full color photo of the boy with long white hair and doe brown eyes.

_Perfect..._

_

* * *

_**ORPHANED STUDENT DIES; SCHOOL IN SHOCK**

_By Irakawa Amaterasu_

Small Go High School in Kyoto is reeling over the death of one of their most promising students.

Seventeen year old Bakura Ryou, an orphaned boy living alone and a third year at the high school, one of Kyoto's most prominent, was found near dead in his apartment Thursday night. He was rushed to the hospital immediately, by a student who claims she was delivering him schoolwork after he had not been present in class. The boy apparently had a large gash on each arm, having sliced many important veins.

He died later that night from blood loss.

Bakura Ryou was an honors student, but teachers say he was quiet in class and had few friends, if any at all. He had been recently orphaned after his already estranged archaeologist father passed away on an important dig when the tomb he had been inspecting caved in. The teachers said that Bakura seemed to have taken the death well, merely having become more wrapped in his studies.

The boy lost his mother and twin sister when he was ten years old in a freak car accident, of which he was the only one to survive.

Despite these past traumas and a lengthy hospital record, Bakura was not in therapy of any kind, apparently not able to afford it.

Authorities are still investigating the suicide, having found only a short note, which reportedly stated: _I killed myself. -Ryou_

Bakura was liked in the school, but socially awkward. Several students have stated that he was merely '_kind of there'._

This preventable suicide is certainly a tragedy, and faculty at Go is making a "sincere effort to heighten awareness about disturbed underprivileged children, in hopes that this situation will not be repeated."

* * *

Kaiba sat back from the article, interested. He wasn't very surprised about Rosuto's-_Bakura's-_death. The boy had seemed like a suicide, but it appeared that his suicide had not affected him as badly in his next life. He didn't seem very depressed.

_They did mention he didn't have anybody. Maybe being dead doesn't have such an impact on him, because he didn't leave anybody behind._

It suddenly struck him as very sad. He shook off the feeling soon enough, and noting that it was already 2 o' clock AM, he decided to go to sleep.

He grabbed a bottle from his dresser, shaking out a small pill onto his hand. "Sweet dreams, Seto." He whispered to himself before swallowing the sleeping medication dry.

* * *

Ryou had a bad feeling when he walked through the door of Kaiba's room on Saturday, met by the boy's cool stare.

Yuugi came in next, smiling at him cheerfully. Jou came in right after that, and a couple of minutes later came Ryuuji, followed soon enough by Malik.

Ryou smiled hesitantly at the boys. "Well…um…anything to say?"

To his (and everybody else's) surprise, Kaiba spoke up. "When were you planning to tell us the story of your tragic life, _Bakura Ryou?"_

Ryou stared at him, mouth half open. "H-how…?" He started.

"How did I find out, you mean? Well, Bakura, we aren't idiots." He looked at the other occupants of the room, who were also in varying stages of shock, eyes lingering on Jou. "At least, I'm not. You died. There must have been some record of it, especially since you were so young. And I found it. No matter how insignificant you are, there's always somebody who cares. Or pretends to. And you couldn't have supposed a suicide would have gone _totally _unnoticed?"

Ryou stared at the auburn-haired boy. Kaiba was right—it had to have happened sometime or other. These kids weren't idiots. Somehow, he was grateful to Kaiba, because no matter how hurtfully he announced the news, he saved Ryou the trouble.

Malik and Jou, the only two who did not know by then, looked at him in some bewilderment. Then Malik's mouth curled into a smile. "I knew it!" He burst out triumphantly, making almost everybody else in the room jump. "I mean, you're already dead, but I know a head case when I see one. Even though you don't really seem all that depressed…Bakura."

"Well, er, when you don't really have anybody to miss after you die, there isn't much difference. Only, people can't see you. Or kill you. It's a bit liberating, really. But it still…sucks."

Yuugi looked interested. "Do you regret it?"

"Of course." Ryou looked uncomfortable. "I killed myself when I was only seventeen."

Jou looked confused. "Wait, if you're so messed up, why the hell did they send you as out guardian angel?"

Ryou sighed. "I don't know. I don't really know anything about this. I'm new at this death thing. Newer at this Wanderer thing. But I suppose that the Powers That Be chose me to…give you sense of kinship, perhaps. Because I guess you've all had thoughts of suicide, correct?"

Nobody answered, so he knew he was right. "And…well…I don't know. It's mind-numbing, I guess. I'm dead. I don't really feel anything about it. It's like all the pain from what made me suicide has been sucked away. And replaced with new pain."

Ryuuji blinked slowly. "That doesn't sound so bad."

Ryou's eyes widened. "Don't you dare try commit suicide, any of you. Because no matter what, somebody will miss you, and you'll regret it. Suicide is the worst, and last choice. I'm here to prevent you from doing it, and you damn well bet I will."

The boys looked at him.

He said quietly. "Let's just…not talk about this anymore. Maybe later, I'll tell you more details. Just…let's not talk about it anymore, okay? Just forget about it."

_Impossible._ They couldn't just forget about it.

"Do your best to block it out, a bit, for now. You know how I died. It isn't any different than if I was tortured to death, if I died in a car accident, if I was sick, if I was just shot, back of the head, execution style. It doesn't make a difference. I'm dead all the same."

The people in the room quietly agreed. Not many of them really felt much different after having their suspicions confirmed. Just a little sobered up, that was all.

It would be okay by Monday.

Ryou thought it was nice to have it out of the way, and tried a small smile. "I'll see you in a couple of days, alright?"

The others nodded.

Ryou nearly fled from the room, out the door, and into a small park. There, he slumped onto a bench and cried.


	15. Chapter 14: Worth It

**One Step Short of Angel**

**_Serious thank-you to all my readers out there._**

**_Warnings: None. Fluff! Maybe OOC? I don't really think so, but give an opinion, por favor.  
_**

**Track 13: **_Somebody to Love_-Queen

_Can anybody find me somebody to love?/Each morning I get up I die a little/Can barely stand on my feet/Take a look in the mirror and cry/Lord what're you doing to me?/I spent all my years in believing you/I just can't no relief, Lord!/Somebody, somebody/Can anybody find me somebody to love?_

* * *

Ryou had decided just to push the last conversation he had had with the boys out of his-and their-minds.

When he got to Kaiba's house, he sighed heavily, feeling suddenly very tired. He slumped on the floor, lying out spread-eagled until he finally picked himself up again just as Yuugi stepped in through the door and later took a place on the bed.

"How's it going, Yuugi?"

"Okay, I guess."

Ryou decided, tactfully, that Yuugi didn't want to talk.

Malik came in a few minutes later, reading from some book and mumbling random words.

Ryou looked up, cocking his head. "What's that, Malik?"

"Nothing, really, just a book."

"What kind of book?"

"I'm not sure, just a book."

"What's it about."

"Why do you care? And I don't know."

He seemed to be at the middle of the book.

"The character is talking, that's all I've got." He continued to read with a barely interested expression. Ryou blinked, feeling slightly disturbed, but shook the feeling off.

Kaiba came in several minutes later. He glared at Yuugi, Ryou, Malik, and the room in general, and walked over to a chair, sat, and began typing on his laptop.

_He's really pale..._Ryou noted.

Ryuuji came in a short while later. He looked pale, his hair more disheveled than usual.

Jou came in fifteen minutes and forty-five seconds late, according to Kaiba.

Everybody looked at the tall boy from their numerous perches.

"Ah, Kaiba?" Ryou tried tentatively. "The time is understood. It isn't set."

Kaiba glared. "It is now. Exactly 5:35 PM, until 7:35 PM exactly."

Jou looked disgusted. "How'd you even figure that out?"

"Just now. You are going to follow my rules."

Ryou shrugged, sighing and rolling his eyes. "Fine, Kaiba has a point. It is his home."

Jou muttered under his breath, something that suspiciously sounded like 'control freak.'

Before a fight could brew, Ryou interrupted swiftly. Or maybe not so swiftly..."Um...er...eh...erm...ano...well!"

Ryuuji raised his eyebrows and smirked. "That was an impressive use of filler words, Ryou. English _and _Japanese. I didn't know you were a polyglot."

Ryou almost winced at his name, almost. But he felt a slight freedom now that they had used it. He didn't really have to hide anything from them anymore. He rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, then. I'll be more eloquent. Do homework. I have nothing to talk to you all about right now." Ryou smiled.

Kaiba continued working on whatever he was working on.

Ryuuji took out his math, and because he wasn't obviously making a move, went over to Malik. Ryuuji had never been shy, and he would be damned if he started being it just because he was asking for help with Math from a fifteen year old boy with questionable sanity.

Malik blinked his lavender eyes at him and smiled cheerily. "Do you know what's going on in Math class?"

"Other than the fact that Risa wants to date the foreign exchange student, no, not at all."

"Well, maybe if you payed attention."

"I try, but it bores me!"

"Very well, alright..." Malik explained the Math to Ryuuji, or tried to.

The other boy wasn't paying much attention, or really understanding anything at all. Malik sighed, wondering how long he had known Ryuuji. It must have been a month and a half already. He liked the other boy, he did, and wished he could know him better. But Malik knew to never get his hopes up, lest they be crushed.

Jou and Yuugi were working on Literature homework, but seemed to be more interested in talking about random games. Whenever Jou brought up a game, from Chess to cards, Yuugi would brighten and begin rambling on about it.

Ryou wondered if he should stop them, but then thought that he shouldn't. _They look so happy. I'd be a total jerk if I didn't let them have a moment like this._

Soon enough, it was time to go.

Malik suddenly felt gloomy, and Ryuuji's face fell. He raised an eyesbrow. "Something wrong?"

"Nah." The boy put on one of his bright smiles, the kind that didn't reach his eyes. "Just that I have to cook today." He didn't mention he cooked everyday. "And I really don't feel like it."

Malik gave a smile. "I know what you mean. I cook, but I don't like it as much as my sister."

He looked at the floor. "Hey, you know, I'm pretty sure Isis is home today. She cooks...and she usually cooks a lot more than any of us can eat. So, wanna come over? It's almost dinner anyways."

Ryuuji looked on coolly, but felt a little stunned. It was the first time anybody, male or female, had invited him somewhere without the motive of hooking up. And...there was food. That was always good. Plus, Malik might have been sort of weird, but he was okay. _I hope nobody sees me with him. That would suck for my rep..._

Nonetheless, he shrugged. "Sure."

Malik smiled. "Great."

* * *

Jou and Yuugi exited Kaiba's house.

Jou suddenly spoke. "Hey, where do you live?"

"Um, a Game Shop." Yuugi pointed to the right. "That way."

"Wow. That's cool, it would be awesome to live in a Game Shop."

"It is! I can get all the newest games, even before they come out. It's so fun!"

"Heh. You're such a dork, Motou."

Yuugi looked slightly hurt. "I like games, so?"

"Nothing. I've never hung out with a dork before. But you know what they say...new experiences make the man."

"I've never heard anybody say that before."

"Neither have I, 'cause I made it up."

Yuugi smiled, rolling his eyes, not very miffed about the name-calling anymore. It was nice to have an acquaintance to talk to. They chatted idly for a while, until they got to the Game Shop. Jou grinned. "Hey, this place's cool."

Yuugi smiled.

Jou frowned. "Ergh."

"What?"

"Neh. I have to go home." He made a face.

"Why? Don't you want to?"

Jou looked at the boy's open, innocent face and smiled. _No need to trouble somebody I barely know. _"Nah, man, it's cool. I've got to go now. See ya?"

The other boy grinned. "See ya."

* * *

Ryuuji looked over the house almost critically. "Nice place, Malik."

Malik smiled wryly. "Glad it fits your high standards."

Ryuuji grinned as the other boy opened the door.

"Isis? Where are you?" The blond boy called out, taking off his shoes, while his guest did too.

"Here, Malik. Come help...who is this?"

A pretty woman with black hair and blue eyes that looked nothing like Malik rounded the corner, looking at Ryuuji with barely concealed suspicion.

Ryuuji gave one of his most charming smiles, the kind that didn't reach his eyes but made girls his age swoon, and bowed. "Hello, Ishtar-san, I'm Otogi Ryuuji."

Malik rolled his eyes, and Isis looked slightly pleased. "Ah, pleased to meet you, Ryuuji."

For a moment the boy wondered what was up with her, referring to him by his first name, and then remembered that apparently in Egypt they adressed each other on a more personal level. Or maybe that was just the Ishtar's? He didn't know, he never had payed attention in Cultural Studies.

"Ryuuji's staying for Dinner." Malik informed her. "Is that alright?"

Isis broke into a wide grin. "Very." Then she hustled off.

The two boys stood awkwardly after she left. "Um, Isis should be done with the food in about an hour. Er, come with me until then, please." Malik mumbled.

"Very well."

Ryuuji followed Malik to a small room. The room was painted a sandy color, and nicely but sparsely furnished. There was a bookshelf filled with random books that Ryuuji hadn't expected the other teen to read, from romances to science fiction.

The black-haired boy took a seat on the floor, leaning on the bed for support. "So, what's up?" He started.

The blond boy looked up. "What?"

"Yeah, what's up. What's going on? What's the night life?"

"Nothing really, just lots of homework, cooking, and so on."

"Ugh. Boring. That's boring! You should get out more."

"Nah."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Ryuuji broke the silence. "Does that TV across from us work?"

"Hm? Yes. Of course."

"Cool!" The black-haired boy turned it on to a news channel, but then immediately changed the channel.

"Why'd you do that? It was the news. That's the only television I watch."

"That's just sad. I hate the news, it's just depressing."

"That's what life is."

"I know that's what life is. Doesn't mean it's not depressing."

They passed by an anime channel.

Malik's eyes widened. "Wait! Go back to that!"

Ryuuji went back a channel. "Anime. What?"

"The animation! It's beautiful."

"It's shojo."

"Girl?"

"Yes, a shojo anime. For girls."

"So? It's nice to look at."

"You're right, the animation is pretty nice." Ryuuji found himself somehow drawn into the plot line.

Even though, y'know, it was totally for girls. (Romance, and so on.) It was still...well...adorable. _People would think I was so pathetic and weird if they knew I was watching this with Malik Ishtar, of all people._

But he had to admit he was kind of enjoying himself.

A while after the anime ended, they boys were called by Isis to eat.

Ryuuji had no idea what she had cooked, but he was feeling hungry, so he decided to take his chances. _It's pretty good..._

He, Isis, and Malik chatted idly for a while. Malik almost envied Ryuuji for having such great composure in the face of such complete strangers.

After Dinner, which had been a fairly relaxed but ever so slightly tense situation, Ryuuji got ready to leave. As he put on his shoes and stepped out the door, into the rain, which had begun to pound down roather heavily (_it'll ruin my shoes...)_ he saw Malik come next to him.

"Um..." The blond began, then sighed, and decide to take a direct approach. "Are we...friends?"

Ryuuji just shot him a smile that sort of reached his eyes.


	16. Chapter 15: Conversations

**One Step Short of Angel**

**_Thanks to people who read, alert, favorite, and (who can forget it?) review.  
_**

**_Warnings: Alcohol, slight references to child abuse  
_**

**Track 15:** _Everywhere_- Michelle Branch

Turning inside out so I can see/ The part of you that's drifting over me/ And when I wake you're never there/ But when I sleep you're everywhere/ You're everywhere...

* * *

It was a week after the last meeting.

Ryou had rested a while, sleeping unnecessary sleep, until he decided he really did have to do something.

_Not a good idea to stay around, on my own, and wallow in the past. I have the future to think about..._

After a little while, he decided to go over to one of his charges' houses. He hadn't peeked into any journals after the first time, but was still pretty curious about it. He had decided he wouldn't, though, not until the two month (now month and a half) mark was up.

Of course, because his mind was feeling fairly dormant at the moment, he saw the large 'KC' logo on the top of one of the buildings very near him. _Kaiba Corp._

He walked toward it, taking a detour at the left of it and reaching the Kaiba mansion.

The place was huge, and beautiful. Ryou briefly wondered who the architect was, because he had definitely done a good job. Of course, it probably hadn't even been good enough for Kaiba. Nothing was good enough for that boy, it seemed.

He shook those thoughts away.

It was late at night, it seemed, when he looked around him. Nobody was out. It was dark, there were a few stars dotting the sky.

He hadn't noticed.

_Wow, Ryou, you've been out of it._

He rolled his eyes at himself as he stepped into the house.

There were paintings decorating the walls. Small paintings, large paintings, it was all the same.

There were no photographs, and the place seemed suspiciously devoid of life.

Not a speck of dust on any one of the vases, the flowers were beautiful, and seemed real. But on closer examination Ryou noted they were made of silk, or satin.

It was like nobody lived there.

Actually, two people living in a mansion of that size? Ryou frankly found it ridiculous.

He headed through the dining room.

"Hello." He heard a voice say, rather flippantly actually.

He turned around, smiling a little. "Noa! Hello, fancy seeing you here."

Noa jumped off of his usual perch on top of the shiny wooden table. "Yeah. Fancy seeing _me _here. I live here, you know."

"I know."

They stood in front of each other, looking at each other, for at least five minutes, until Ryou finally got a grip. "What have you been up to?"

"The same thing I've been up to for the past...five? ...Six?... Years. Looking into the exciting lives of the Kaiba brothers. Please. The elder one is rarely home, and all the little one does is play games, do homework, and stuff like that. Poor kid." There was actually pity in his eyes.

"Oh. I was hoping to see Kaiba. Not talk to him or anything."

"Stalkerrrr..."

Wow. He really was a pre-teen boy. "Not stalker. I'm just taking notes."

"I rest my case."

"You aren't a Wanderer, you don't understand."

Noa shrugged."I don't understand because none of this even makes sense."

* * *

Ryou walked around the Kaiba household after his brief conversation with Noa.

He saw a room with the door ever so slightly ajar, so he entered the place.

It was huge. The walls were painted an off-white color, there was a bed in a corner. A dresser in another. A television on the wall, mounted there. A bookshelf, filled to the brim with books about the most random things, from picture books to books on philosophy. (The picture books, however, looked used. The philosophy or science ones...not so much.)

And on the bed sat a child, one that Ryou was already fairly familiar with.

Mokuba.

He sat quietly, looking through some fantasy book with glossy, full-color pictures in it. It looked expensive. And challenging. For an eleven year old, at least.

He didn't look very lonely, he seemed fairly content. Of course, Ryou couldn't read auras, so he couldn't really tell, but that was beyond the point.

By the clock on the wall, he noted that it was already eleven oh clock at night.

The child's sleepy-eyed look made sense, then...

Ryou wondered vaguely why exactly the kid was up so late at night. But perhaps he was just like that, maybe it was his way of relaxing.

But he couldn't help but feel sorry for the child in the big, empty room.

* * *

Mokuba went to sleep at two oh clock AM.

Kaiba came a half-hour later. He headed straight to the room where his little brother slept, looking at the boy for a little while with a hint of something like sadness in his eyes.

He brushed back some of Mokuba's black bangs, and headed out the door.

Ryou followed, like a shadow. It was easy to hide, though. He found that if he wanted to enough, he could hide from anybody.

Kaiba sat on his bed, and Ryou marveled at how even alone (or supposedly alone) the mask stayed firmly on Kaiba's face. It was almost impressive. And quite saddening too.

But suddenly, if only for just a moment, the mask seemed to melt away just a little.

The boy suddenly looked very, very tired, and almost emanated a melancholy aura. He sighed heavily, sitting on his bed and putting his face in his hands, hiding his eyes. Just for a moment to himself.

He collected himself a few minutes after that.

Then he went over to his large nightstand, and grabbed a bottle of pills.

Sleeping pills.

He swallowed one. Ryou had taken enough sleeping pills in his day to know that one wasn't going to get much sleep, especially of the brand that Kaiba was using. Only about three hours and a half, four if he was lucky.

Soon enough, Kaiba succumbed to sleep.

Obviously, the pill didn't help the nightmares that seemed to come to him easily from leaving, just gave his every wince, every movement of his lips, every flinch backwards, a slow, drugged up look.

Ryou stood there looking at the boy for at least an hour, watching his lips form the same words, over and over again '_no', 'don't',_ and perhaps most shocking of all: _'I'm sorry'_.

Then he left.

* * *

Somewhere not very near Kaiba's house, Otogi Ryuuji was playing with his dice.

Which made sense, he thought as he tossed the small die.

Because Ryuuji loved dice more than life itself.

That was common knowledge.

Ryuuji didn't mind that that was common knowledge, because it was better than other things.

He decided to follow Ryou's rules at least a day, and grabbed onto his notebook, deciding to write in the journal.

_Journal_

_I think it's okay that everybody sees the superficial me. I'm not Ryuuji to them, I'm Otogi. That pretty boy who likes dice. Or that vain boy who's always looking in mirrors. Or just that boy with the nice face and the black hair that I kissed in the back seat of my car once. _

_It beats anything personal about me, like 'There's Ryuuji.' 'Oh, you mean the one who's obsessed with those happy endings and fairy tales?' 'Yeah, him.' 'Hm. Got a nice face.' 'Oh, but have you heard of his escapades with random women and men?' 'Really? My god, can you say man-whore?' 'Yeah. He's also a total freak. Only little kids like fairy tales.' 'Yeah.'_

_Sure, lots of people know I have hook-ups, but it's more adventurous and romantic than anything.  
_

_I much prefer to be beautiful, green eyed, ivory skinned, dice obsessed, HAPPY Ryuuji Otogi._

_To everybody other than myself, anyway._

_I'm not a liar.

* * *

_Jou heaved out a sigh as he sat on the floor of his apartment, picking up the pieces of a broken beer bottle that his father had hurled at him.

"Thanks for the hello, dad." He muttered to himself.

There was a unmistakable smell of liquor hanging over the house. Jou hated that smell...ugh. He had to get out of that place, _now._

He headed out of the small apartment, not giving much thought to the blood that trickled down one of his fingers where he had cut himself on the glass.

It wasn't very cold outside, but it was a little chilly, and he was just wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. He wanted to get somewhere soon. He passed the supermarket he usually went to. He wasn't going in there unless he had to...too many bad memories about supermarket trips gone wrong.

Like the incident with the shopping cart. He smiled a little fondly, _ah, good times._

He kept walking along, kicking a rock ahead of him and looking at people now that he was on the less poor side of town. It was interesting seeing them. Where he lived, only homeless people went out, and all the mothers kept their children in. Unless they needed something important, just about everybody stayed in. It was gang territory, and some of those gangs were pretty damn ruthless.

Jou knew first hand.

Some of those gangs were the kind who would go for the youngest members of other gangs (and they got pretty you, Jou had only been ten when he first joined one) just to get the weak links. Those poor kids they targeted didn't often survive.

It made Jou glad that he had quit the gang a short while before he had entered high school.

He hadn't killed anybody yet, and that was a vast improvement from normal gang life.

He was jerked out of his thoughts by a small sign that he saw out of the corner of his eye.

_Hey, that's Yuugi's place..._

His almost friendship with the little guy was near absurd, because Yuugi, no doubt about it, was weak. He usually hated, or pretended to hate, weakness.

But...Yuugi was _nice._

Jou entered the shop.

Yuugi sat behind the counter, working on some thousand-piece puzzle he was halfway done with. He sat on a large, swiveling stool, and obviously noticed the _ding _of the little bell at the door as Jou came in.

He didn't look up from his puzzle. "Hello, Kame Game Shop, do you need help selecting anything today?"

The taller boy in front of him chuckled. "Nah, it's okay, I'm not here to buy."

He laughed shamelessly as Yuugi jumped. "Jounouchi! You scared me!"

"Hah. The point, man, the point."

"Why are you here?"

"Wanted to get out of home." The blond mumbled, looking down at the counter, but not before spotting Yuugi's meaningful look towards him.

"Oh. Well, then. Sure, you can hang around here all you want...it's a slow business day."

"Those must suck."

"Why?"

"I'd think they'd be boring as hell."

"Not really. But people aren't really all that interested in Kame any more."

"Why not? This place is cool."

"I know, isn't it? But there are other places that beat this one...especially since we don't sell video games. I've begged Grandpa to get some sort of stock of them, but he just waved me off. Says we aren't going to forsake what the Game Shop is about just for some extra cash."

"Hey, he's sort of right. This place is pretty tight."

"Thanks. There are people who think the opposite."

It was silent for a while, until Jou broke it. "So, how are ya feeling?"

Yuugi sighed, looking up with tired purple eyes and smiling at him. "Not great. A little sick, really...but Advil is keeping me from bed, thank goodness. Plus, I'm sick a lot, so I'm kind of used to it. And my legs feel numb."

"That sucks...how come?"

"I'm not sure of why they do today...but they do. The braces are pressing a little tightly."

"Oh, right. Those things."

"Yes. For polio. I'm lucky that I don't have to walk with crutches and the braces, though. I used to have to, until a few years ago."

"That really, really sucks. Are ya ever gonna get the brace thingies off?"

"Maybe, maybe not. You never really do know."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence again. Yuugi marveled at how only a year ago, Jou had been a total jerk to him all the time...but now he was nice. Maybe even like a friend... He smiled, pushing another piece of the puzzle in.

Then he realized something. "Jounouchi! You're bleeding!"

"Aw, man, really? I'd'a thought it would'a stopped by now!"

"It hasn't! How did that happen?"

"Nothing. Cut myself on some glass."

"Oh, damn...let me see it."

Jou obediently stuck out his hand. The cut was pretty big, and, yes, it was still oozing blood. "Was that bottle rusty?"

"Nah. It was new."

"Well, this might be infected...but I'm always prepared. Or at least, the shop is."

They chatted for a little while as the wound was getting cleaned out.

Eventually, it was time for Jou to go. He was surprised to notice it was dark outside when he left, and he ran all the way home, in a much better mood than he had been at the start of the day.

* * *

It was a school day.

Malik groaned. He hated school so much...he was good at it, sure, but what did that count for anything? He changed into his school clothes quietly, and then grabbed his medication and downed a pill.

He grabbed his book bag and walked out the door.

When he got to school, feeling fairly good (finally, a good day again), he looked around at everybody. There weren't many people there, because he always got to school early. He noticed that new girl that had been mentioned in the meetings.

Mazaki Anzu. He had helped her to a class a few days ago, he thought. But he wasn't really all that sure.

He turned around, but then he felt a tap on his shoulder. He jumped in shock, and his book bag landed on the floor with a loud thud.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" It was the Mazaki girl. "I'm really sorry! I just wanted to get some help finding the next class. I'm really forgetful...it just completely slipped my mind." She smiled apologetically.

Malik smiled slightly in amusement. "No problem."

She showed him the room number she was supposed to go to.

"Okay...I'll walk you down if you want, if you're a visual learner."

"I am. That would be really nice of you..."

"Ishtar Malik."

"Ishtar-san!"

"Just call me Malik without the honorifics. I'm Egyptian...and my family doesn't use those things."

"Okay...you can just call me Anzu, then."

"Very well, come with me."

They walked to the room in silence, and Anzu found a nice place to sit.

"Thanks, Malik..." She turned to say, but he had left.

A while later, she felt a tap on her shoulder. "Yes?" She turned around. "Oh, hi Yuugi!" She noticed that she wasn't calling him Motou-kun, and kicked herself.

But he didn't really seem offended...

"Hello, Anzu. Can I sit next to you."

"Of course, stupid. What did you think I'd say, no?"

"Um..."

"Just sit."

Yuugi did.

Soon enough, class started.

Malik was in her next class, Japanese.

He was pretty good at it, really. She hadn't really noticed him in that class, apparently he didn't really participate. The teacher even brought attention to how many questions he was answering, mentioning "It's nice that you're participating for once, Ishtar-kun."

When she went to eat Lunch, she asked Miho-chan (or most everybody called her Ribbon-chan) about him.

Ribbon made a face. "Don't talk to him, Anzu."

"Why not? He's pretty nice."

"You've talked to him? Ugh, no, you shouldn't. He's crazy."

"What? Where'd you get that idea?"

"It's common knowledge around here."

"What if it's a rumor?"

"It's not. He had some kind of psychotic break last year and didn't come back to school for the rest of it. We were sure he'd been put in the loony bin, but apparently he wasn't or he got out before time."

"Oh. But isn't it kind of cruel to shun him just because of that?"

"No. Of course not. Nobody talks to him, Anzu. It's just the normal thing to do. I bet he's used to it anyway."

* * *

After school, it was time for yet another meeting.

And they had to get there by...five...fortysomething, or they would have to face Kaiba's wrath, and nobody wanted to do that.


	17. Chapter 16: Remembering

**One Step Short of Angel**

**AN/ This chapter has kind of a weird format...but there's lots of blasts to the past. Heh...angst galore!  
**

**_Thanks to people who read, alert, favorite, and (who can forget it?) review. Please review...thank you..._**

**_(Oh, by the way, just because I'm curious, who are your favorite and second favorite characters?)  
_**

**_Warnings: References to child abuse, child neglect, death  
_**

**Track 16: **_Barely Breathing_-Duncan Sheik

_'Cause I am barely breathing/And I can't find the air..._

* * *

The meeting was quiet.

Everybody, for some reason, seemed...forlorn.

Ryou frowned in that concerned way of his. "Is something wrong? You all seem so...down."

Around the room, the boys shrugged or mumbled something unintelligibly. "Well, don't any of you want to talk at all? If you don't, I'll ask questions. And they may be personal." He warned, slightly threatening.

Yuugi heaved a sigh. "I have a doctor's appointment today. Like every month...been having them since ever. They still suck." He blinked his big eyes tiredly. "At least my doctor is nice." There he was, looking at the bright side of things.

Ryou nodded. "Has anything else interested happened to you lately? Have you all been writing in your journals?"

Everybody nodded or grunted a 'yes'.

Ryou smiled. "Great." He looked around himself, worried.

Everybody looked tired. Yuugi a little hassled, maybe even sad. Jou just seemed flat out unhappy. Ryuuji sported a bruise on his cheek that nobody had asked him about yet. Malik had a bandage on his cheek, and a book that he had almost finished reading in his lap. Kaiba was...perhaps the most worrying of all. His cheeks were flushed in an odd way, and his eyes were as focused as ever, but slightly glassy.

It seemed Ryou was not the only one who had noticed. Yuugi looked over at Kaiba with an odd look. "You don't look well." He stated.

The taller (much, much taller) boy sent him a deadpan look.

The small boy pursed his lips, crawling over to where Kaiba was sitting. He then went as tall as he could go on his knees, and reached toward the slightly younger boy tentatively. Kaiba almost flinched. _Almost._

But the hands were too soft and too small to be _his_, so he just sat there as the soft fingers lay on his forehead. Yuugi frowned. "You're really warm. Warmer than me."

"You also have a fever?"

"Not too much. Usually 99.6, if I take medicine. I always have a fever. It's a fact of life. But you're stronger than me."

Kaiba just rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. "Look, I don't want you talking to me, or," he spat out the next word as if it was a preposterous idea "_caring_ for me. I can take care of myself."

Ryou bit his own lip, and decided to break up the meeting. "I think you all should leave early today...um, just write in your diar-journals a bit more today, okay?"

Almost everybody groaned, but they got up to leave very soon.

Kaiba just stayed there, suddenly snapping out of whatever trance he had been in and tapping harder on the keys of the laptop. "Kaiba," Ryou whispered gently, after watching the boy slave away for twenty minutes with barely a pause for oxygen, "you're ill. Maybe you should rest."

"I do not by any means have to rest. Resting gets no work done, and I must get work done. And I must do it correctly."

"But how can you do it correctly? You can't be thinking straight."

"Whatever supposed fever I may have, I always think straight."

He typed on the laptop more furiously, as the door opened and his brother walked in. "Hello, brother...you look horrible!"

"Thank you, Mokuba."

"I didn't mean it that way, but..." Mokuba's voice rose in octave. "You're _ill!_"

"Not at all. I'm perfectly well, Mokuba. You shouldn't worry about it."

"Seto, I think you should go to bed." His voice was firm.

"No, I have a company to run."

"I can run it without you for a couple of days...Roland can help me."

"Not a chance."

"Seto, you have to trust me. You aren't up to working right now. You'll burn yourself out!"

"Don't be silly. I'm working."

"When you're really obviously sick!"

"I'm not sick!"

"Don't be stubborn! You need rest now...please."

"No, Mokuba. You know I don't even like to sleep."

"I don't care right now, you have to."

"I am your caretaker, you are not mine."

"Kaiba, do you really think child services is going to buy the fact that you're running a company for not maintaining your health? Look at how thin you've gotten."

"I've always been this thin, Mokuba."

"You don't even fill out your clothes anymore."

"I'm growing."

"Please, Seto, I really want you to do this." He looked over at his brother with the saddest, most adorable puppy dog eyes in the world.

"That look isn't going to work on me."

The puppy dog eyes were turned up a notch.

"Fine, I'll rest for a while, just start looking like a normal human again!" He caved, finally, at least thirty minutes later.

He went over to his bed, taking off his shoes and his coat, and then finally getting under the covers and, almost immediately, was asleep. Mokuba looked over him quietly for a while. "Sweet dreams, big brother." He mumbled, even though he knew it wouldn't happen, and he stepped out of the room.

Ryou sat on a chair that was next to the bed, just watching the boy, and the way that his face relaxed as he slept, and he looked infinitely more vulnerable than he ever had seen him.

Then, soon enough, his face contorted into an expression of pain, hate...perhaps even fear.

And that was when he cried out, flinching, and wincing, and lashing out against something that wasn't there.

Ryou just reached his hand towards Kaiba's face, brushing his hair away from his eyes, and trying desperately to soothe him.

It didn't work.

* * *

_"Seto? Seto?"_

_"Daddy! Did I get my new sibling."_

_"Yes...a brother."_

_"Wow!...why are you crying?"_

_"You see, your mother..."_

_The doorbell rang._

_Seto went to the door, only to see a couple of police men._

_"You are Ebina Seto?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Is Ebina Mokuba around here?"_

_"He is."_

_"Very well. Your mother."_

_"Not present. Tell me what you need to say, please."_

_"We are afraid that your father drove into a wall while drunk..."_

_"Where are we going?"_

_"An orphanage. You and Mokuba will stay there."_

_"Wait, why? We don't need to."_

_"I can't take care of you, kid!"_

_"I challenge you to a game of chess..."_

_"I adopted you because I thought you were worth something!"_

_"You adopted me because I won!"_

_"Look, are you worthless, dog?"_

_"No!"_

_"Are you entirely sure of that?"_

_"Yes!"_

_"...I've taken over the company..."_

_Gozaburo fell._

_'Should I cry or scream?'_

_

* * *

_It seemed that everybody had memories they wanted to forget.

Some dreamt about them.

Some just had them there, stuck in the back of their minds...

_

* * *

"Ryuuji! Ryuuji!"_

_"Yes mother?" The little seven year old boy asked quietly, smiling his perfect smile._

_The woman smoothed down his braided hair. "Nothing. I just wanted to look at you..."_

_He frowned. "Why?"_

_"You're so beautiful, Ryuuji."_

_He blinked up at her with his wide emerald green eyes. He felt confused as his mother knelt down and hugged him. "I'm going to miss you so much when I'm gone."_

_"Where are you going, mommy?"_

_"Nowhere, Ryuuji...forget about it. No need to worry your pretty little head about it."_

_"So you aren't going anywhere?"_

_Her ivory skin glowed. "It won't be like I'm gone...you look just like me, you know."_

_"But where are you going?"_

_"Somewhere beautiful, somewhere important."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Don't you want your mommy to be happy, Ryuuji?"_

_"...Yes."_

_"She'll be very happy where she's going. Remember that. I'll be happy."_

_He didn't understand._

_She knelt down in front of the slim boy, elegantly, her white shift looking shiny in the dark, and her black hair and green eyes glittering shamelessly. "I love you."_

_"I love you too." He was innocent, almost, and almost trusting._

_But he was no idiot, he knew something strange was happening._

_"Are you going somewhere forever?" He noted the doctor's note she had clutched firmly in his hand, and the weight she had lost, and how tired she always looked now._

_She nodded in agreement. "Forever and ever, and I'll be happy, and someday you will be with me, and you'll be happy too."_

_"Why can't I come with you?"_

_She hugged him closely to her chest. "Oh, honey, it's just not time. They're not ready for you yet, up there."_

_He hugged her back, silently._

_"Ow, that hurts, dad! Dad! Stop it!"_

_"Just some pretty boy."_

_"Don't hurt me."_

_"Be a man."_

_"You're intelligent, but you don't apply yourself..."_

_"Go to hell."_

_

* * *

_

_"Wait! Ma, where are you going?"_

_"I can't stay with your father."_

_"So you're going to leave me here?"_

_"I'm sorry..."_

_"And Shizuka? what about Shizuka?"_

_"I'm taking her, she isn't safe here anymore."_

_"What about me?"_

_"You're the boy, you'll make it."_

_"But..."_

_"Goodbye, Katsuya. I love you."_

_He didn't respond._

_"Who are you?"_

_"Hirutani...I've heard you're strong. This true?"_

_"Hell yeah."_

_"Ever thought of...joining our gang?"_

_Katsuya almost coughed on cigarette smoke._

_Almost._

_Jou took out the switchblade, hovering it over Hirutani's throat._

_"Y'know what? I quit."_

_"You're failing class."_

_"Maybe if you just tried..."_

_"You are such a jerk!"_

_Stupid...all brawn and no brains.  
_

_That was him...right?  
_

_

* * *

_

_"Yuugi! You're Yuugi, right?"_

_"Yes..."_

_"Huh." The boy looked him up and down. "Wow." He smiled a little cruelly. "You're small. And what are those things on your legs?"_

_"Braces."_

_The boy was not impressed, and ran off to his friends, commenting loudly that he had taken the dare._

_"Excuse me? Can I have this seat?"_

_"Sorry, Motou. This is for a friend. I think there's an extra one somewhere in the back."_

_The bus began to move._

_"So, when do you think I'll get my braces off, doctor?"_

_"I don't know...it could be a while."_

_"Appendicitis..."_

_"..."  
_

_"He'll be fine..."_

_"..."_

_"No he won't..."_

_Won't what? He was so confused._

_"Don't talk to him. He's weird."_

_Games were always nicer to him than real people._

_Mainly because they didn't talk, think, speak, or make fun of him mercilessly._

_A ready made friend._

_Not really like the real thing, though._

_

* * *

_

_"Malik!"_

_"Yes?"_

_"Where are you going."_

_"Nowhere, father...just outside."_

_He couldn't remember last going outside._

_"No. I will not permit you to."_

_"...Sister! Sister! Help me!"_

_"Father, stop! Stop! You're hurting...oh no...RISHID! RISHID!"_

_"Master Ishtar? No...no...put down the knife."_

_The scars never faded._

_If he looked at them hard enough, there seemed to be some sort of message engraved there on his back._

_He looked at the dark, star dotted sky._

_He closed his eyes and felt the cool wind on his face._

_He was outside. _

_So why did he feel emptier than before?_

_"Hello...Malik..."_

_"W...wait...what are you? I've not seen you...I...I..."_

_"I'm here to protect you, little one. Weak one."_

_"Can I call you Marik?"_

_It was the middle of class, and Malik could swear he saw something..._

_A flash of spiky, sandy blond._

_He screamed, violently pushing down his desk, having a major panic attack._

_He screamed again, grasping at his hair._

_"Ch. That's just Malik."_

_"...He's insane."_

_

* * *

_

Ryou thought they were just a group of messed up teens. He knew he had to look deeper.

He didn't know how disturbing things could be.


	18. Chapter 17: Rest

**One Step Short of Angel**

**Track 18: **_Love Hurts-_Incubus

_Love hurts, but sometimes it's a good hurt/And it feels like I'm alive..._

**_WARNING: _**_Abuse of a minor, mentions of alcohol, language_

* * *

It was a warm day, so students at school felt rather...cheated. Lunch time made up for their lack of natural light, however.

Kind of.

Malik sat alone, as usual, not even trying to know what the book he was reading was about. He sat under a big weeping willow on the outskirts of school property. The long, drooping leaves hid him enough, so people wouldn't stare or talk about him (very, _VERY_ obviously).

He was absently chewing on...whatever he had packed for lunch. Hey, he was just supposed to pack it, not remember what exactly had been packed.

But he was off in his own little world when he got interrupted.

"Um...hi, Malik?" The voice was tentative, but familiar.

"Yuugi. Hello?" Malik looked up at the boy expectantly.

Yuugi dropped to the grass next to him. "I couldn't find anywhere to sit." He explained.

"...Okay."

It was quiet for several minutes, as both boys relished the oddly warm, sunny, and, ah, _happy _day.

Until the amicable silence was broken by another voice. "Finally! I thought I'd never see wither of you guys again! And here you are, two in one try!" The voice was a girl's, bright and loud. Anzu flung herself on the ground next to the boys. Malik blinked and Yuugi smiled.

"Hi, Anzu! Don't...you...um...have other people to sit with?"

Malik broke in. "True. Wouldn't want to ruin your social standing or anything...don't you usually sit somewhere else? With Ribbon and other-assorted-people-who-think-we're-freaks?" He drew in a breath after the sentence.

Yuugi nodded, agreeing with the taller (much taller, actually) boy.

The brown-haired girl laughed. "Yeah, right. I wasn't going to sit with a bunch of little ditzes like them anymore." She narrowed her eyes and almost sneered. "At first I thought she was nice, but...well, everybody makes mistakes."

Malik couldn't help but quietly agree. He liked Anzu, he decided. She was easy to understand. Very straightforward.

She patted him on the arm, gently, and then busied herself talking to Yuugi. "So, how are you feeling?" She looked like she was actually interested.

"I'm feeling really well!" The small boy said sunnily.

She smiled. "It's a nice day outside, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's kind of weird, isn't it? Usually it's...rainy." Yuugi furrowed his eyebrows. "Off topic, bu...Where'd you move from?" Getting to know people was the start of a good relationship, right?

"Oh, Tokyo. I was only there a couple of years, though. I used to live in Kyoto. But I moved before I could attend the high school."

Malik nodded sympathetically, interrupting the conversation. "Moving is difficult."

Yuugi frowned. "I've lived in the same place all my life. Only with different people."

"Different people?" Anzu felt curious.

"Yeah. First I lived in an apartment with my mom and dad, 'till I was about four, then another apartment with my mom 'till I was ten, and now I'm with my grandfather."

"Oh."

Malik decided to tactfully change the subject. "So, do either of you understand the lit homework?"

The one girl in the group sighed. "No. Not at all. I really think _The Odyssey _was lost in translation."

Yuugi chuckled. "You mean, you'd rather read it in Greek? Or English?"

The brunnete gave a theatrical shudder. "No _way. _I suck at English. It's dragging down my average, it really is." She said forlornly.

The smaller one was about to reply when the bell cut off the conversation, so they broke apart. "Hey," she stopped the boys. "How 'bout we meet here tomorrow?"

The others agreed.

* * *

After school, there were no meetings, so everybody who usually went to them headed home. (Sans Kaiba, who went to work. As always.)

Yuugi had to go help out at the shop, Malik usually just went home, and Jou...heavens knew what Jou did after school. He usually didn't get to his house until after seven, though, when his dad would most likely be passed out.

Ryuuji's house was empty.

For a moment, he wondered where his father was. Then he shook of the thought when he realized he could care less. As long as his father wasn't around him, where the man was really wasn't all that important to Ryuuji.

The boy headed to his room, shaking his hair out of its pony tail and frowning when it hung limply. "You've got to be kidding me..." he mumbled almost angrily. "I just styled it!" He sighed in exasperation (oh how he _hated _bad hair days) and put his hair back into its pony tail.

He took out his homework, doing his English translation and literature easily. He stalled when it came to Math, though.

Eventually, he just put that particular homework away after scribbling down random answers. At least the teacher couldn't mark him off as not having done it.

Deciding that he wanted something to eat, he walked down the stairs. After having grabbed something and eaten it very quickly, actually, he began to get upstairs, and was passng through the darkened 'living room' (nobody ever spent time in there) when the door opened.

_Shit..._ He thought. _It's him, isn't it? I hope he didn't bring friends._

But no, there were no friends. Just one man with a shadowed face, who snarled when he saw his son.

"What are _you _doing here?"

"Well, if you aren't too smashed to notice, I live here." Ryuuji definitely hoped his shaking voice wasn't visible. He raised his head regally, trying to look defiant and succeeded.

"Don't talk." The man said bitterly, shoving the boy back.

"Have you been drinking?"

"Why should ya care? God, just a shot or two and it's like the fuckin' spanish inquisition. Like your mother." He snarled, then said something that sounded like "_God I'm glad that bitch is dead."_

Ryuuji knew the man wasn't glad. It was his mother's death that had made him so angry, after all. He tried to walk away, only to be stopped by a strong hand gripping his thin wrist hard. He hissed in pain. "Let go..." He felt himself get shoved up against the wall. "Ow."

He was shoved again, harder, and winced, feeling his body slam against the wall.

The man heaved a sigh, letting Ryuuji sink to the floor, exhausted. "Stupid kid." He grumbled, walking away.

Ryuuji swallowed twice to fight back the tears.

* * *

The next day, after school, _was _the meeting.

Ryou looked over his charges, seeing that they looked...kind of happier than they had last time or the time before that. _Maybe something I'm doing is getting through to them? _Of course, it could've just been a good day.

"So, has everything been going according to plan?" He said cheerily.

Kaiba snorted. "There wasn't a plan."

"...Right. Anyway...Ryuuji!" Hurricane Ryou stromed towards the boy. "How have you been?"

Ryuuji covered a wrist with his hand and shrugged. "Pretty good."

"That's good...anyway, I take it you've all been writing?"

Everybody agreed to that.

"Good..." the meeting passed without a glitch. Everybody seemed friendly with each other, even Kaiba, though he was never friendly, wasn't especially _unfriendly _to anybody but Jou.

Ryou heaved a glad sigh. _Maybe the other meetings will be more like this one, he thought hopefully._

_

* * *

_Jou caught up with Ryuuji right outside the gates of the Kaiba estate. "'Ey, Ryuuji!" He shouted.

Ryuuji turned around, raising a perfectly maicured eyebrow and resting a slender hand (nails manicured, of course) on his hip. "Mhmm?"

Jou leaned on the gate, regaining his breath. "I noticed something today..."

"Wow, nobody ever does that."

Jou glared. "Where'd you get that bruise?"

Ryuuji's left arm disappeared behind his back. "What are you talking about? I don't have time for this." _I've got places to go, people to meet._

"You live with your dad, right?"

"Yeah."

"Did he do that to ya?"

"Do what?"

Jou lunged forward, fist poised. Ryuuji instinctively recoiled, covering his face with his arms defensively. Jou grabbed the arm that had an obvious, purplish, red, and yellow mark around the wrist, shaped suspiciously like fingers.

Ryuuji regained his cool, glaring. But that had been a pretty good tactic for getting somebody to reveal something, if they didn't turn tail and run. Jou was many things, but he was certainly not stupid...

"Huh. Your dad...this doesn't look old. This happen yesterday?"

"It wasn't my dad. I got in a fight on the way home from school."

"Right. Y'know, dude, I know where you're comin' from."

"Yes?"

"Yeah. I mean, my dad's still drunk all the time. He stopped bein' violent when I was like thirteen..."

Ryuuji leaned against the gate too, mirroring Jou's position. "My dad doesn't hit me."

Jou raised an eyebrow.

"Well, not usually. Yesterday was just one of those days...I usually only get hit when he's been gambling and lost, or drinking, or with his friends."

"That still sucks."

"Well, yes, but what can you do?" Ryuuji shrugged.

Jou mirrored the action. "Nothin', really. Guess ya could just tough it out like me. But, ya know, you could tell someone."

"Yeah, no. Not gonna happen. There's a reason you didn't tell anybody about _your _dad."

"True." Jou looked at the digital clock installed in the gate (Kaiba was always prepared). "We prob'ly should get going."

"Yeah." Ryuuji nodded. He did have a date.

"But anyway, just wanted to confirm suspicions."

They looked at each other for a second, before starting to go their separate ways. Ryuuji heard Jou call behind hhis shoulder, as he left, and because of this turned to look at the goofy blond. "Y'know, I get it."

Ryuuji nodded. "Me too."

Then they really did head wherever they were going.

* * *

From behind a rose bush near the gate, after hearing his charges' conversation, Ryou sighed. _They're practically making progress without me..._ But he knew he have to step in some time.

He suddenly felt exhausted, but then tried to shake that feeling.

He had to help save this kids.

After that, he would have all the time in the world to rest.


	19. Chapter 18: Something Like Goodbye

**One Step Short of Angel**

**AN/ **Suckish chapter, sorry.

_I'll Be There For You_-**The Rembrandts**-_I'll be there for you/'Cause you're there for me too_

**

* * *

**

_About two months after last chapter.

* * *

_

The day was quiet, a little gloomy, as usual. It drizzled a little.

But still, Yuugi and Malik faithfully sat under the weeping willow, not caring too much about the bad weather. The weather wasn't that bad, after all.

And, of course, Anzu, that being the kind of person that she was, did not go back on her proclamation of spending Lunch together. Not that she would, even if it were storming or snowing or something equally disastrous.

Anyway, they talked about trivial things. Quietly, too.

Until somebody barreled through the weeping willow's strangely long leaves. (It had to have been some sort of genetic mutation, the thing was like a curtain.) The boy hissed in pain, clutching his arm.

Malik blinked, raising a sandy eyebrow. "Ryuuji?"

The other looked startled for a moment, then smirked and later became comically serious and hissed at him. "Shhh! They're after me!"

"Who?"

He smiled. "Nobody, that was just a really fun James Bond impersonation." He put on an exaggeratedly 'sexy' voice, and said in near perfect English, flipping his near-perfect hair out of his face, "'Cause it's Otogi. Otogi Ryuuji."

Anzu laughed out loud of the antics of the stranger, stopping a little while after piercing green eyes, lined with eyeliner, fixed on her like she was the creature from the black lagoon. "Hi!" She said perkily. "I'm Mazaki Anzu!" She stuck out her hand.

He glared, turning away from her. She withdrew her hand. _Well, that was pretty rude._

Malik nudged Ryuuji lightly. "She's not the enemy." He whispered exaggeratedly, mimicking Ryuuji's bad Bond impersonation, even though he'd never seen a movie with that particular character in it.

Actually, he wasn't allowed to watch anything far beyond Romances, or Romantic Comedies, or something around that, because Isis was paranoid and thought every other bit of blood would trigger a meltdown. Well, it probably would. But nobody had to know that.

His...friend...smirked, but then became serious again, half-mockingly, half not. "You never know."

Yuugi had just watched this all with an amused smile. Anzu nudged him. "Yuugi? You know this guy?"

"Yeah, sure. He's Ryuuji. I guess he's a friend."

Anzu noticed Ryuuji's back stiffen at the word, then gradually relax as his shoulders shrugged.

Ryuuji turned back to her, lips twisting into an almost perfectly charming smile (if it could only reach his eyes other than a faint plastic glimmer). "So. How do you know these two?" He gestured, with a manicured hand, at the two other boys.

She raised an eyebrow. "Just from around. They were basically the first person nice to me, other than Nosaka Miho, and she's a ditz." The girl said almost angrily, a glimmer of passion in her blue eyes.

"Hum. I went on a date with her once." He didn't seem particularly interested with this fact, as if he went on random dates with random girls all the time, and he probably did. She felt a faint prickle of dislike, that slightly lessened when Malik rolled his eyes at the other boy and he just smiled with that slightly pitiful ease, pushing his shoulder gently.

"So? What was your verdict, hot-shot?"

The boy put a badly bruised hand to his face mockingly. "She's a ditz." He said finally. "Of course, I don't have such a big problem with that...but other than being a ditz, she wasn't a very _interesting _ditz. I mean, she was pleasant, but, well, one in a million."

Anzu didn't like his attitude, but her maternl attitude kicked in and she decided to chew him out for his attitude later, as she pointed at his hand. "What happened to you?"

He quickly hid his hand under his arm. "Nothing!" He laughed nervously. "Nothing real important or anything!"

Nobody was convinced.

"Look, I just smashed it in my room door, okay?" He eventually snapped. It wasn't a _complete _lie. He had smashed his hand in a door. Only it wasn't really him who slammed it in, and it had been a pretty purposeful accident.

Nobody was very convinced, but they let it go for the time being.

Anzu moved on to her next topic. If she was even going to kind of consider this guy a friend, she had to get some stuff out of the way. "So, do you always act that way towards the girls you date? One after another?"

"Not really." He smirked wickedly. "I swing both ways."

He was being oddly blunt, and she wasn't quite sure of it, but it seemed like he was pretending to be all-surface, so nobody had to look inside. But she could just be reading too many Romance novels. Of course, everybody else who basically _knew _Ryuuji thought the same thing, but then again, they read lots of Romances too.

But for the moment she felt too indignant to really dwell on such things. "Man-whore." She muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

Then she immediately felt bad. She hated exposing her nasty side like that, and the mean comment had apparently stung just a little (well, his father said it to him all the time, but she didn't know it), because he didn't meet eye contact with her for two seconds, and when he looked back at her, the smile was even more lifeless. "Well, maybe." He said fake-nonchalantly. Even she didn't notice the blatant hurt. Because blatant emotion for Ryuuji, other than-ahem-_happiness_, was less than a 'little'. It was a miniscule amount. The only person who could really surpass that was Kaiba. And that was because he never showed any emotion other than anger, snark, and over-protectiveness.

"Look, I'm sorry. That was out of line." Anzu said. "Would you mind just forgetting I said that or something? We could just start over, you know?"

He had never started over with another human being like that, but he shrugged and nodded anyway.

Whatever, right?

* * *

That afternoon, there was no meeting, and Ryou knew for a fact that Kaiba Corp. headquarters was closed, so Kaiba was probably home. Over-working himself to the ground, most likely, but home.

So Ryou decided to put his evil plan into motion. Okay, it was more _nice _than _evil_, per se. But 'evil' sounded way cooler.

It had nothing to do with anything, anyway, what the plan was called. He only did it to...lift Kaiba's spirits. If the guy's spirits could ever be lifted. He couldn't really tell, though he had become a master of emotions, after all of this and being very good at reading people in life as well.

Kaiba was one of the most controlled people he knew. He only ever saw the kid 'go soft (ish)' when alone, with Mokuba, or if he was alone (supposedly) in his room, or even if he was having a nightmare or fever.

But one thing he had noticed about him was just how...protective he was. Mostly of people who he held a special affection for. He always helped Yuugi get up from the bed, even helped him down the stairs when the elevator wasn't working again, and always asked Malik how he was doing, as though he (gasp) cared. Which he did. Which was obvious by seeing him with those two, and Mokuba.

Ryou knew it didn't sound right, and Kaiba would deny it with evey fiber of his being, but Kaiba was an extremely..._maternal_...person.

And so, Ryou found the cat. The cat was just that-a stray kitten, no more than five months. It was skinny and obviously didn't have much time. So the next day, almost spontaneously, but planned, he tried to grab the cat. Of course, it worked, but the cat got spooked, considering some freezing cold invisible person was trying to grab her. But he managed to get a hold of her, and she relaxed when he let himself be seen.

He nearly ran towards the estate, and nobody noticed the magnificent floating cat. He supposed it was one of the perks of being a supernatural entity. But that was just him.

As he entered the place, getting past all of the defenses because the cat was very small and light, and he himself didn't technically exist, which just made things so much simpler.

He sneaked out of the place easily, after depositing the small cat on the very doorstep of Kaiba's bedroom. The little thing was so adorable and pathetic-the kid would be heartless if he didn't take it in. And he certainly wasn't.

Twenty minutes later, Kaiba couldn't take it anymore. There was meowing and scratching that seemed right in front of his door, but since it was so faint he figured it was Mokuba watching a movie way too loud-the Kaiba's had the best sound system possible, after all, even if he didn't know what movie would invole cat sounds for the majority of it. So he opened the door, ready to call down to his little brother: _Mokuba, don't listen to it that loud, you'll ruin your hearing, and I've got to work!_

But instead, he found himself looking down at a tiny little scrap of an animal. A _cat._ It's fur was mottled and it was too thin, but it was adorable. He figured out after a few seconds of looking at it that it was a girl.

"What the hell?" How could that thing have gotten past the security system? Maybe he needed to upgrade it...scratch that, it was always at the highest upgrade. Maybe he needed to add on some new parts to the system during his breaks or in the late nights and early mornings.

...Sleep wasn't that important anyway, since coffee was invented, and even energy drinks and sodas. (That was his motto: When all else fails, turn to caffeine.)

One or two hours was all that was necessary, maybe even less.

But the cat had begun to claw at his pant leg, and he couldn't just leave it out there. It probably had fleas or something like that, and it was dirty...he had to wash it, it couldn't just stay out there in the hall, that would be idiotic.

He could clean it up, it could stay for a short while, an hour maybe, and then he could take it to the local pound.

Hey, it may have sounded cruel to the odd animal lover (he wasn't one), but he knew that the pound was in pretty good shape. He knew it because he had donated a fairly generous sum of money to it with light prompting from Mokuba (who certainly was an animal lover).

So, he picked the little thing up and led it to his room, where he actually washed it in his bath tub. Urgh, he would have to buy her something else to bathe in. Wait, no, he wouldn't have to, because she wasn't his, he was going to give her away right away.

He was sure, actually, that one of the Kaiba Corp. receptionists, an American by the name of Lucy, would take it...he had once overheard her making short small talk with another employee while they were on break. She had said that her little girl (who was around six) should have something to play with. She didn't make friends easily, and apparently the father had walked out on them, so Lucy had been talking about getting a cat or puppy. Kaiba had felt his heart tug for a split second-if there was anything he identified with, it was broken families and children-then he had forgotten until they had turned up in his mind as the perfect people to just give the cat to. Of course, his reputation would be near-demolished if she told anybody, but he could fix that, and tell her that she was a pretty good worker and that her little girl would be happy enough with Nocturne.

Had he just given the damn thing a name? Okay, maybe it wouldn't work out giving it to Lucy, he could get a puppy or something, maybe, for them. It was almost Christmas, after all, even if he never gave presents for the holiday. Ever. He could threaten his way out of seeming charitable.

Because...Nocturne was so quiet, and her fur was such an intoxicating shade of black, and so were her eyes...

Well...maybe he could keep her, just a while...

Like, maybe her whole life. But that was just was he thought. He didn't really know, he would probably end up giving her away after all.

Of course, his doubts vanished so that it seemed like one of his usual perfectly planned out ideas (yes, he did have a fairly high fever at the time, and that was probably a driving force), when Nocturne curled up next to him in bed and even helped him sleep nightmare-less for a little while longer, just with her presence.

She was a valuable thing to have, he decided.

* * *

Noa sat quietly on Mokuba's giant bed, knees pulled up to his chest as he watched the small boy with lukewarm amusement and ever-so-slight pity.

Mokuba couldn't see him because Noa didn't want to be seen, he just wanted to watch the kid.

He'd warmed up to the youngest one, over the years. Of course, at first he had hated him, as was his duty to do, because those two boys his father adopted had taken his place. Okay, it wasn't a very good place, but still...

And Mokuba was very difficult to hate. He was kind, compassionate, funny. He was, came Noa's verdict, _okay._

Of course, he hadn't quite been able to hate Seto as much, seeing how he acted with Mokuba around, but Seto was enough of an asshole to hate him with kind of justified cause.

But the kid was such a nice one...he couldn't help it, he sometimes felt that Mokuba for some reason got somewhat of the short end of the stick. He didn't have friends, his brother loved him but didn't quite pay enough attention to him, and...well...he'd had a difficult eleven years.

Noa hated to say it, but he felt some compassion for the boy who had kind of taken his place in the world.

He shook his head. Maybe he could help the kid out...something to do, right, for the rolling amount of time he had on Earth. (Or not.) For a second, he thought of Ryou. The guy was okay, and wasn't helping people out his job?

But he wasn't able to think of anything anymore, because suddenly, as he was just outside to 'get some not-really-needed fresh air', looking up at the dark, slightly gloomy sky, he was overtaken by a huge glow.

He screamed.

"Shhh..." He heard a feathery, soothing voice. "It's okay, honey."

He narrowed his eyes, squinting at the glowing lady in front of him.

She had long white hair, and blue eyes, and smiled. "Hello, Kaiba Noa." She was very pretty.

"Who are you?" He spat.

"I'm Kisara. Or, Death. But I prefer my given name, if that's alright...after all, it doesn't make much of a difference."

"Death? Why would Death be here with me?"

"Well...I had a talk with the Angel of Decision, today, he said you'd gotten your time on Earth, you can go to Paradise now, Noa." She said this softly, with a feathery smile on her face, and held out her hand.

"But...I..." He didn't know what to say. "I need to tell somebody...something...I can't leave now." At one point he would have taken any chance, but he wasn't so sure, now. "I've gotta do something..."

"Are you sure? This is your chance."

"My only chance?" He felt desperate.

"Well...do what you want, by late tomorrow. When you want me, call for me. I'll come, okay?"

"But...don't you have lots of people to get to?"

"...I'm not the only Death, honey."

Then she was gone, leaving a soft glow. Noa grasped for her. He had...how long? He didn't have long, and that was what he knew.

* * *

The next night, Ryou, while snooping around Kaiba's house after a meeting, as per usual, was stopped by Noa. "Ryou. I need to see you. Now. _Right now."_

He felt himself get pulled out into the gigantic back-yard, and found himself facing the green-haired boy. He just realized that Noa, being a dead little kid, was supposed to be creepy. He was feeling it a little, at the time. He wondered if he was creepy, sometimes.

"Ryou, your job is to help people, right?"

"Right." _Where was he going?_

"You need to show yourself to Mokuba."

"What? No!"

"Are you not allowed? Is it not part of the fucking _rules?"_

_For a child, he's pretty intimidating._

"...No...But...why?"

"The kid's had a hard time. You have to help him too. You can't just hide yourself from him. That's _fucking_ selfish. He's right there in front of you, he's the young one, the easy one, what excuses to have, damn it?"

"Kaiba...said not to...tell him..."

"And what can _Kaiba _do? _Kill you?_ Sorry buddy, it'd be a little too late."

"You...have a point...but why do you care?"

"I have a feeling that this might get me a few perks in Heaven, being nice for a while. Besides, the kid's kind of okay."

"Why not you?"

"I...don't have time."

"What?"

"I don't know, Ryou! I want to go to Heaven, and I have a chance now. I don't even know if I have a choice. But should I go? Can I?"

"Yeah. You should, this is your chance. I mean, to be happy, right? It's Heaven, how could you not want to go."

"I do."

Ryou pushed Noa on the shoulder lightly. "Then, by all means, go."

"Will you do what I asked?"

"I will."

"Promise?"

"...I...promise."

Noa grimly closed his eyes, nodding his head.

He looked over to Kisara, who held out a slim, pale hand. "Come on."

He took her hand.

And he was gone, leaving Ryou standing there, as silvery dust settled in a light, glittering wave over the yard, with a funny sense of loss.


	20. Chapter 19: Exhaustion

**One Step Short of Angel**

_Note: For the song quote this time, it's from a Broadway musical (don't worry, no spoilers), and so the character names are there. Don't worry, you don't have to know the show._

**Just Another Day**-Next to Normal (Original Broadway Cast): _DIANA: It only hurts when I breathe./ DAN: It only hurts when I try./ GABE: It only hurts when I think/ NATALIE: It only hurts when I cry./ DAN: It only hurts when I work./ GABE: It only hurts when I play./ NATALIE: It only hurts when I move./ ALL: It only hurts when I say/ It's just another day..._

_Warnings: Child abuse mentioned, some talk of drugs, much friendshippy Drama, language, some very slight mentions alluding to prostitution, will probably be revised later for OOCness on Ryuuji's part  
_

_AN/ Basically, in this chapter: There is Anzu/Ryuuji friendship (because it's so much fun), and Mokuba finally sees Ryou. Hey, I figured the NINETEENTH chapter (MY FIC IS ALMOST AT LEGAL DRINKING AGE! WE'RE GOING TO GET SOME VODKA AND HAVE A PARTY FOR IT IN TWO CHAPTERS!)_ had to be interesting and...character-developmental.

**

* * *

**Ryou sighed. It was a week after Noa had left. He had to do something, get in contact with Mokuba. He had been waiting the whole week to get his courage up, and he had to go, he had to show himself to that lonely little kid.

Because he had been planning it, toying with the idea for some time, and Noa basically came and set it in stone.

And Ryou had promised.

He never broke his promises.

...Not since...not since Amane. She'd broken her promise to him, and he knew it was stupid, because she really couldn't have done anything about it, and because of that he was angry, that fate or whatever made her break her promise to him. He remembered screaming at her in the hospital room as she flat-lined and nobody could wake her up again, he remembered in his hysteria, screaming: _You said you would never leave me! You promised! _He remembered tears slipping down his face as the doctor shook his head sadly. He remembered his forlorn whisper: _I'm never leaving you._

He never broke his promises.

The white-haired boy walked towards the Kaiba Estate. He had seemed to be going there a lot in the past week, just to look and savor the emptiness of the house. Just him and two flesh-and-blood children, he the only supernatural entity in the whole place. In a way, it was a little lonely.

He entered, looking around at the now familiar premises. Had it really been, what five, six, seven months around the kids? The kids that had grown on him in such a short time?

_I must be eighteen by now._

None of the fifteen-year-old's had turned sixteen yet. He didn't know their birthdays. Damn. He knew some of their deepest secrets, but not their birthdays? He'd have to inquire about that.

But he then purposefully headed over to the room that Mokuba lived in, and entered.

* * *

It was hard not to trust Anzu.

It was even harder not to like her.

Almost everybody liked her, and Ryuuji was no exception to that.

Really, her smile was disarming and her friendship warm. She was tough, and could frankly grate on the nerves some times, but she was amazingly difficult not to dislike.

Ryuuji, having trust issues, however, took a little less time to warm up to her.

But he knew that he was going to have to go to her house. He had run out of gauze and anti-septic, and his lip was bleeding terribly despite his attempts to stop it, and his body and muscles _ached _so badly he felt like dying. He needed the gauze, he needed the anti-septic, and he needed some fucking Advil.

Yeah, mostly the Advil. And some vodka. (Okay, the vodka part was a joke. He didn't drink.)

He stumbled along the street, feeling quite dizzy. He tasted his blood, metallic in his mouth. Yuck. His father wasn't usually so violent. But ever since Ryuuji had turned fifteen, the man seemed to be noticing him more. And not in such a good way.

Thankfully, Anzu had given her three friends her address, 'just in case'. She worried about them, a little too much, but for now he was thankful, and also thankful that her parents were apparently never home, having demanding jobs on school days.

His hand gripped the hood of his old hoodie that he never wore anymore because the thing was damn _ugly_, and pulled it down, shadowing his face. He didn't want to be seen in public looking like he looked. Probably nightmarish. He was ugly that day, which seriously grated on his nerves. Being beautiful was what he was good at. Being beautiful could get him serious perks in life. At least, high school life. Maybe even later life.

If he ever got desperate later on, after high school, or for money for college, he could always work the red light district.

He shuddered. _Don't think like that, Ryuuji. You don't have the stomach for all that shit, and you've still got your dignity._

_What's left._

He finally got to Anzu's place. It was very nice, and really big. He had wondered how she had gotten the money to study at her prestigious dance school, and he now knew for sure.

He guessed her parents still weren't home because of the empty drive-way.

He took a deep breath and walked up to the door, knocking.

Anzu opened it after a few knocks, wondering who the hell it could be. She looked, absolutely confused about the boy in front of her. He was wearing a baggy sweatshirt that was really too big for his very skinny body. He wore black jeans that she recognized, and black combat boots. Her eyes wandered to his hands. Delicate, with long, spindly fingers. Pretty like the rest of him...

She gasped. "Ryuuji? What on earth are you doing in here? Wearing that? Are you okay?" She knew he would never come under normal circumstances, despite her open invite.

"Ch. What's wrong with what I'm wearing? It's frumpy chic." He said with great sarcasm. Anzu smirked.

"Of course it is. Seriously, what's wrong."

"Fine, I'll get to the point. Do you have a first aid kit?"

"Oh, god. What happened?"

"Nothing, nothing. I just ran out of my own."

"But why do you need it?"

"Just a cut."

She sighed. "Okay. Come with me."

"Fine."

She led him to the bathroom, and took out her First Aid kit, taking out anti-septic and gauze. And Advil, at his request. _For the sting_, he said. Lying, obviously. His body was throbbing.

"Okay, Anzu, it's all good, just, let me have some privacy."

Anzu nodded, but didn't leave, just pretended too, getting out of his distracted sight. He didn't notice until she gasped when he took off his hood.

He looked awful. His face had a large bruise over his eyebrow, his lip was split, and the bags under his eyes almost looked like bruises themselves.

He turned toward her, anti-septic soaked gauze over his stinging lip. "You said you'd leave!"

"What happened?"

"Nothing." He looked down and then up, managing a small, sarcastic smile. "Walked into a glass door. What can I say, I can be clumsy?"

He was one of the most graceful people she had ever seen. "Sure. Who hurt you?"

"Nobody hurts me! Trust me!"

"You're lying! Who the hell hit you?"

He sighed, dabbing a little more at his lip as the bleeding stopped. "Finally," he muttered. Then he took some Advil and groaned, leaning over the sink as he felt nauseous.

"Ryuuji? Are you okay? Oh god, are you going..."

"I'm going to vomit!" Damn, he'd been feeling that way ever since his father punched him in the stomach.

"Uh oh...come to the toilet."

He practically lunged at it, opened it, and heaved. His stomach was nearly empty, and he ended up dry-heaving for nearly fifteen minutes as Anzu held back his stray hair and kept a calming hand between his shoulders.

Finally, he stopped, and she flushed the toilet and gave him some water as he looked at her blearily. He looked tired. He was tired. "Sorry to bother you." He never apologized, but he felt like an idiot. "I'll leave now. Let's just..." He got up, promptly stumbling, and she helped him into the big living room. "...never mention this again. I'm fine." He insisted.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." He mumbled, not much of his over-confidence in him, mostly sapped out from exhaustion. "My dad doesn't usually get so violent. I don't know what got into..." He trailed off when he realized what he was saying. "Shit." He moaned.

Anzu's eyes widened as she felt a surge of righteous anger.

Ryuuji's shoulders started to shake, and so she walked toward him, trying to comfort. And he, from the pain (physical, of course), cried almost silently. She hugged him, and he didn't hug back.

Between trying to calm himself, he whispered. "Forget this ever happened, okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

Mokuba sat on his bed listening to music. He...actually wasn't sure what he was listening to. Well, he was busier with thinking, really. The music was just a welcome distraction from how empty the house sounded.

But...then he looked up, and realized the house actually wasn't empty.

The boy had white hair, wore a strange white and red outfit, and glowed.

Yeah.

Seriously.

Mokuba blinked.

"_Who_ are you?"


	21. Chapter 20: Lullabye

**Track 20**: _Innocent_-Our Lady Peace

_We are, we are all innocent/We are all innocent/We are, we are..._

AN/ If you want translations to any songs, look down to the end of this. This chapter is kind of weird in continuity...the first few italicized parts (five) are ones that are not in continuity, but are from back in the day, and not necessarilly from a main character's point of view. Then we pick up from where the last chapter left off. Then any other italicized parts are parts of Seto's nightmare. (Kaiba-centric chapter, people. 'Bout time.)

Horrbily cheesy chapter today, sorry. But I kind of like it. _  
_

* * *

_The girl danced barefoot around the stone of the cellar, hair pulled back, a shapeless dress clothing her slim body. In her arms she held an infant, with caramel skin and eyes that were of the strangest violet color._

_Magic, she was sure of it._

_She sang quietly in broken English, a few lines of a song that she had heard on the radio that Rishid had smuggled into the house. It was called a lullabye, she was sure, and with it she sung her brother to sleep, long black hair swishing back and forth. _

_"Hush, little baby, don't say a word...sister's gonna buy you a mockingbird...and if that mockingbird don't sing...sister's gonna buy you a diamond ring..."_

_And she repeated the song, the little tune, in her lovely lilting voice.

* * *

_

The little boy didn't know what to do, as he sat there with the wailing little boy.

"Quiet, Mokuba," he cooed, "don't want to wake daddy up, no we don't." He knew daddy wouldn't wake up, because daddy was passed out drunk. But he was six and wishes he didn't know.

He stroked back the infant's hair and blinked back his own tears until they became a glassy film over his eyes. He never cried anymore, because crying wasn't necessary to survive.

Mokuba's wails reduced to whimpers with careful coaxing from the boy with the frayed nerves. Then they became nothing, but still the baby didn't sleep.

He remembered with sadness-though sadness was not a very useful emotion-the songs his mother used to sing to him, old American lullabies. His father was American, after all, and she wanted him to get in touch with the other culture, and if little songs were the only way, so be it.

He remembers the one song she taught him, the song with the pretty little tune, that she never again sung to him because she found it too morbid.

But it was the only one he could remember...

And so he whisper-sang it in his weak treble.

"Rock-a-bye-baby in the tree top...when the wind blows...the cradle will rock...when the bough breaks...the cradle will fall...and down will come baby...cradle and all..."

* * *

_The golden-haired ten year old rocked to and fro on the swing, waiting for his father to come down from one of his drunken rages so that he could go home._

_He remembered fondly a time when the old neighbor next door, Herr (he couldn't pronounce the rest of the name) would talk to him and teach him some songs, some that he had used to sing to Shizuka when she had a skinned knee, after the man passed away._

_And he sang to himself, because he needed comforting, he wanted to feel her, and sang out tonelessly, in almost un-understanable German:_

_"Schlaf, kindlein, schlaf...Der Vater hüt' die Schaft...die Mutter schüttelt's Bäumelein...da fällt herab ein Träumelein...schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf..."

* * *

_

_Yuugi smiled brilliantly as his mother sat beside him on the hospital bed, and she smiled back, though her heart was breaking for her dying child. (Polio...who knew?)_

_"Yuugi, go back to sleep, you need rest." And soon his expresion turned into one of almost comical fear.  
_

_"But mama, what if I don't wake up?"_

_She chokes back tears. "Don't worry, I'll be here forever." (She lied.)_

_"Sing to me, mama. Sing the lullabie."_

_"...Nen-nen korori yo, Okorori yo...Bōya wa yoi ko da, Nennne shina..."

* * *

_

_The young lady smiled gently at her little boy, who was nine by then, almost ten. It was getting close to the end, and she knew it, the pain hindering even her breathing.  
_

_"Ryuuji..." she cooed. _

_The little nine year old, young and thin, smiled at her pallidly, great green eyes sunken slightly in his his head._

_He's tired, the poor little thing, Olenska thought sadly, and sat with him until his eyes closed, but before they did, he whispered some words. In her native Russian of course. Her husband did not want him to learn Russian, but he had known it maybe even before Japanese. _

_"Mother, do you feel well? You look ill."_

_"I'm fine."_

_He fell asleep on the couch, soon after that. _

_She stood there quietly, and then finally opened her mouth, her operatic voice lifting across the room._

_"Spi mladyenets, moi prekrasný, bayushki bayu, tikho smotrit myesyats yasný f kolýbyel tvayu. Stanu skazývat' ya skazki, pyesenki spayu, tý-zh dremli, zakrývshi glazki...bayushki bayu."_

* * *

Ryou smiled gently at the small boy who stared at him with an open mouth and wide eyes.

"Hello."

"Ohmygosh am I seeing things...that's really bad...I'm not the Kaiba who sees things! Get out! Out! Out!"

Ryou smiled gently. "It's okay." He said simply. He stepped closer to the younger Kaiba.

"Get away from me!"

He stayed put.

Mokuba's breathing became more regular and he relaxed his death grip on his long hair. "Well? Are you going to answer me? Who are you...and and why are you glowing?"

Ryou hadn't been aware that it was dark enough in the boy's room for him to glow, but he smiled helplessly. "Well...it's kind of hard to explain without sounding very odd...but, here goes..." He swallowed. "I'm dead. I'm something resembling an angel. A...guardian angel if you will."

Mokuba looked up at him with his big doe eyes. "Go away. Seriously. I must be dreaming or something."

"You aren't. Funny, that's almost exactly what your brother said when I came to him. Well, I think he may have likened it more to a hallucination...but that isn't the point."

"My brother?"

"Yes. Oh, but you can't tell him I came here..."

"But...he doesn't...he couldn't..."

"Don't worry, neither of you are crazy. Or anything like that."

"Then why am I seeing things?" Mokuba asks flatly.

_Seto has taught him well._

"You aren't."

"I have to be. Angels don't exist, because magic and God and eternity do not exist."

"And how long has Seto been telling you that?"

"Since before I could talk, probably."

"Well...maybe it's time to reevaluate your beliefs, because I'm real."

Ryou grips the younger Kaiba's shoulder, and feels a little bad as the boy gasps convulsively.

"My name is Ryou."

Mokuba utters his words of confirmation in a shaky, unbelieving, and yet hopeful voice. "I'm Mokuba."

* * *

It was later, after another...productive...meeting (well, the boys seemed to be getting along, so Ryou figured it counted), at about one o clock in the morning that Ryou entered the Kaiba mansion.

He felt oddly empty without Noa there, and so decided to check on the two boys that lived in the house.

Still it seemed sad to him that those two lived in such a giant house, so alone. It was a little eerie, and he wondered what kind of secrets he would uncover in the place if he dug a little deeper. He shivered, and put off that kind of archaeology to a later date as he heard strangled gasps coming from a room.

_Seto's room?_

He had nightmares every once in a while, Ryou knew it, but he didn't know they were frequent. Of course, two every once in a while weren't frequent, were they?

...Still, he felt like a total intruder as he entered the room. That was what he was...but...well..._still._

Seto tossed and turned, dry gasps coming from his throat.

* * *

_"I can't breathe!" He choked. "I can't!", he tried again, bending over to protect his stomach._

_

* * *

_Ryou gasped along with him, powerless to do anything.

* * *

_"What? Going to be weak? You need to be strong, if you will be my heir." His eyes narrowed cruelly. "Good thing I've got an extra heir."_

_Seto struggled to his feet._

_"Don't...you dare..." He coughed dryly, hair hanging in his face. "hurt...my...little...brother..."_

_

* * *

_He slowly dropped to his knees, carefully putting a slim, freezing hand on the boy's forehead. It was warm, definitely warm. No wonder he had gone to sleep so soon.

He carefully knelt there, having no idea what to do.

For a moment, he remembered his mother's voice. _Songs make everything better._

He felt his stomach hurt as he began to hum absentmindedly, wondering where all of this came from.

* * *

_Despite his moment of bravery, his legs were still kicked from under him, and he lay sprawled on his back, trying to scuttle away, fighting the overywhelming urge to vomit.

* * *

_He smiled almost fondly as he sang quietly.

He remembered his days of tap-dancing with her, his days of singing...

He remembered.

* * *

_The door of the closet closed, leaving him breathing hard all alone in the dark. _

_An overwhelming sense of calm washed over him,

* * *

_"_Come and listen to the lullabye of...ol' Broadway..."_

He finished the song soon enough, and Seto slept almost calmly, sweat still glistening upon his brow.

And Ryou slipped out of the room.

(And never mentioned the incident to anybody, ever. He wasn't like that.)

* * *

**_Notes_**

**Lullabye 1: **

_Hush Little Baby_, which is an American lullabye.

**Lullabye 2: **

_Rock-a-bye Baby_, a British lullabye.

**Lullabye 3:**

_Schlaf, Kindlein, Schlaf_, which is a German lullabye.

The words are:

_Sleep, child, sleep,_

_your father tends the sheep_

_your mother shakes the bough,_

_ and from it falls a dream._

_Sleep, child, sleep._

**Lullabye 4:**

_Nen Nen Korori_, a Japanese lullabye.

What I have from it is:

_Hush-a-bye! Hush-a-bye!_

_My good baby, sleep._

**Lullabye 5: **

_Cossack Lullabye,_ a Russian lullabye.

_Sleep, good boy, my beautiful,  
_

_Bayushki bayu,  
_

_Quietly the moon is looking  
_

_Into your cradle.  
_

_I will tell you fairy tales  
_

_And sing you little songs,  
_

_But you must slumber, with your little eyes closed,  
_

_Bayushki bayu._

...

Oh, and the bonus song that Ryou sang was from _42nd Street_, called "Lullabye of Broadway".


	22. Chapter 21: Loss

**One Step Short of Angel**

**

* * *

**

AN/ Well, the Kaiba-centric storyline is continuing this chapter, and we're starting a new one, too! Yes, there are going to be more like this. I'm pretty sure there have been before.

Fic fun fact: Tristan was first supposed to have been a soldier in Vietnam. Then World War II. I finally settled for World War I.

And by the way, the end of this chapter seems unfinished because it is! It'll pick up next chapter.

**Track 21: **_Bad Wisdom_-Susan Vega

_What price to pay/ For bad wisdom/ What price to pay/ For bad wisdom/ Too young to know/ Too much too soon/ Bad wisdom/ Bad wisdom..._

* * *

_The boy was small-he wouldn't hit his growth spurt until his thirteenth year-but he sat rigidly and proudly. His eyes were a bright blue, and fairly large. They would narrow out in time, lose that softness. He had a very thin frame, as though he didn't eat much at all, and it's true, he never did, not even later._

_Not because he doesn't like food-he doesn't-but mostly because he had no time. At that point he was basically being trained to be a workaholic, tapping right into his escapist, addictive nature, and he caught on at once.  
_

_At the moment, he was paying about half-attention to a business meeting, looking almost like a joke in his dark suit. He would look like a joke, but it was his intensity and tension that made everybody almost respect him. But not completely, because he was an eleven year old in the cruel world of business. But Gozaburo may not have had faith in the boy himself, but he certainly had faith in his very high intelligence. _

_At the moment, he sat, silent and rigid enough so that people would confuse him for a mannequin or something and leave him the heck alone. _

_Eventually, the meeting would end, and he he would head home to get started on his homework it was a Sunday, which he surprisingly had off from his private tutors-which was good because he didn't like or care about any of them except for his English teacher, Roland._

_And then, near one o clock at night, when his labor started to catch up with him and he began to drift off, Gozaburo, who would be standing over him by then-like hell it was a free day-done with his own work, and he would sneer and taunt him._

_And it would end up being him working into the small hours of the morning, and if he ever drifted off he would wake by feeling searing pain across his back._

_But Sunday was the best day. Because all the other days, Gozaburo took much more notice of him, and there were nicely healing marks across his back and other places to prove it._

_Sometimes he was afraid the man was trying to turn him into a machine._

_Sometimes he was afraid it was working._

_

* * *

_Seto sat up in bed, trying not to think of the dark encroaching on his personal space, but not really wanting to turn the light on. He didn't like the dark (but he'd never, ever, ever admit to being afraid of it, so why start?) and yet he didn't turn on a light.

He guessed he was just a masochist that way.

Easily, he shook those ideas to the back of his head, to the place where all of his uncertain, unhappy, non-fact thoughts went.

He exhaled slowly, realizing that nights like this one were the ones that kept those dark circles under his eyes.

He headed over to the bathroom, just like any other night like that one, a night that he woke up in the middle of, no longer too exhausted to think straight. He went over to his bed and popped a sleeping pill, enough to hold him over for three hours before the nightmares started, and when they did, he would wake up.

It was that simple.

Like clockwork.

* * *

_We're meeting today_, he thought with great distaste as he typed away at his computer robotically in the office. _I'll have to be back by five-thirty. _He didn't want to lose the work, but he didn't want to be late to any of his commitments either, even those he hadn't had a part of. Besides, it was something competitive in him, the kind of thing that kept him playing games (and winning) even though he found no fun in them anymore. He liked the rush of exhilaration that came from being better, more powerful, than anybody else.

He continued his work, faster than usual.

* * *

He ended up being the only one who didn't arrive late for the meeting. (First him, then Ryou, then Yuugi, then...well, everybody else.)

He didn't sigh, because that was what people did in Shojuo manga, not real life.

Instead, he tapped away at his lap top and didn't listen as Ryou went on about something, and then probably told them to work on homework. Nobody approached him, and the feeling that he got from that wasn't loneliness.

It was any other day, ever since his life had been thrown into the chaos that was this whole business with a guardian angel. He had never believed in those. Not ever. Not even when he was four and his mother told him fantastic stories about them, and God, and everybody in Heaven, and how he would go there someday, she was sure of it.

He scanned over the group. Malik and Ryuuji were probably working on math. Malik looked fine, and Ryuuji looked flawless. As usual.

Jounouchi and Yuugi were working on some English homework, or pretending to work on it. His eyes strayed to the crutches that lay next to the smallest boy. He's figured that they would come into use some time. It was probably hard trying to walk around all day without aid from anything but the braces.

Yuugi had insisted before that he'd get the braces off someday, and that his legs would be fixed and perfect, and it would go like that.

Seto sincerely doubted it.

Ryou sat in the corner of the room, looking over at the boys serenely.

He looked happy.

* * *

Yuugi was the last to leave, and he hesitated as he walked out the door.

He turned around. (That was the beginning.)

"...Are you okay?" He asked shyly.

Seto was pretty sure he was genuine, because Yuugi was a very genuine person. He wondered what exactly had made him get that ridiculous idea.

Because why would Seto _not _be okay?

Ludicrous.

"Of course I am." He said sharply, in clipped tones.

Yuugi smiled gently. "Are you sure? You look flushed. Do you have a fever?"

He did. He knew it. He'd checked it that morning and it was at a good 101 fahrenheit. He figured it had been a little higher last night, because he was sure that he had had auditory hallucinations (this did not please him) of somebody singing a song unfamiliar to him. But thankfully, Aspirin existed.

He shook his head, no. "Of course not."

Yuugi gathered up his courage and hesitantly walked towards the much taller boy, carefully and deliberately reaching out a tiny hand to place on his forehead.

Seto almost started at the soft feeling. It was cold, and Yuugi had stated himself that he usually ran a little high.

Odd.

"I think you really do have a fever!"

"Of course not." He paused. "Why are you even here?"

"I'm worried."

"Why should you be?"

"Well...because...you're my friend..."

"We barely talk at all. And I never gave you permission to consider me a friend."

"I don't really need permission, that's not really how it works."

"Really?" He said, bitingly. "Then how does it work?"

"I care."

He shook his head. People like Yuugi were the saddest in the world, those who convinced themselves that life was really okay despite all the shit they went through. Yuugi was kidding himself if he thought that life worked out the way it usually did in romance novels and comedies.

"You shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because I won't care back."

Yuugi gave a little hitched breath at that, but other than that smiled bravely. "Well, I don't care. And you should really check your temperature. Your forehead felt really warm."

"I'd rather not."

"Where's Mokuba?"

"Why do you care?"

"I...guess I shouldn't, huh? But I was just curious."

"He's at a friend's house." The kid had been wanting to go there for weeks. It had taken him a while to convince his brother to actually let him.

"So you've got nobody here?"

"No." He wondered why he hadn't just kicked out the boy yet. He just hadn't.

"It's such a big place, though. You two live here all alone?"

"Of course."

"...It sounds lonely."

Seto's eyes flicked from the screen of his lap top to the boy sitting on his bed, across from him.

"It's not."

A short smile played on Yuugi's chapped lips. _If you say so_, he wanted to say. But didn't.

They stayed quiet for a few minutes. Thunder crashed outside.

"You should leave. It's probably raining, and what with that cheap metal on your legs, you'll be hindered."

"Shoot," Yuugi muttered as he looked out the window. Rain was pouring, and as much as he hated to say it, Seto was definitely right. The braces were cheap, an odd mix of plastic and metal, and, well, he didn't move all that quickly. The crutches were cheaper and wooden, and the wood would rot outside in the water. He didn't own an umbrella-didn't have the money for it, and anyway, he rarely went out. Besides, he didn't like thunderstorms. They made him nervous.

"I don't know if I can leave," he muttered apologetically.

Seto's eyes snapped up from the lap top that time. "What?" He sounded severely pissed off, and Yuugi quickly scoped out the nearest escape route.

"Sorry. My braces are hard to move in, my crutches'll rot."

The young man growled under his breath. "Shit."

He would usually just make somebody leave anyway, telling them it had been their own fault, but Yuugi did have a point. Besides, over the last hour he had found that Yuugi and a puppy shared several physical and personality traits. And Kaiba was not the kind of person to kick the metaphorical puppy.

"Fine." He snarled. "Guest room is across the hall. Don't bother me, or you're out, crutches or not."

"No problem."

He finally left the room, and Kaiba was able to breathe normally again as quiet closed around him in an almost claustrophobic way.

He didn't like thunderstorms, he realized.

They were too loud, they were too imprisoning.

He tried to ignore the sounds.

Because it didn't make sense for him to get scared.

That just wasn't who he was.

He worked a few more hours, not really thinking about what Yuugi was doing (he was reading an old Harlequin novel that he'd managed to scavenge up, something one of the secretaries had left a long time ago, in the guest room, actually).

He worked until the world twisted in odd ways, and seemed to tip over a little. It was a bit like being drunk, it was a bit like being drugged, it was a bit like having a minor concussion. He sluggishly raised his hand to his forehead, and swore in his mind as he figured it was probably a couple over 101.

_Something tells me we used this plot device before..._

He felt like throwing up.

So he went to the bathroom.

And he did.

* * *

Yuugi awoke from his semi-peaceful sleep to the sounds of retching coming from another room. For a moment, he felt a jolt of satisfaction. _Knew he was sick._

He wasn't sure what he could do. Go in to the other room? Or just let Kaiba work it out on his own?

He knew he was a bit of a pushover when it came to people in need, despite the fact that he didn't really know why. (It was probably because, despite the fact he was physically weak, he didn't need people thinking he was emotionally weak too.) So, it was the most obvious choice when he decided to go check. Without the crutches, because the room was just across the hall after all.

"Kaiba?" He whispered.

There was more retching, and then the sound of heavy panting.

He walked into the bathroom. "Hey..."

"What are you doing here, Mutou?" The tall boy asked harshly from where he was still hunched over the porcelain God.

"Just checking on you."

"Well, I'm fine. Leave."

"Where do you keep the Advil?"

"I _said _leave!"

Yuugi flinched back slightly at the angry tone of voice but didn't move, partially because he was kneeling and didn't feel like getting up, and partially because he didn't really want Kaiba to die while he was right there. Well, he most likely wouldn't die, but the point was...anyway.

He spotted the little blue bottle on the counter of the shining white kitchen and shook out two little pills, and then filled the small glass on the counter with water. (He was pretty sure it was a shot glass, but decided it would be prudent to just not ask.)

"Here."

Kaiba managed to get himself to lean against the wall after flushing the toilet, and then grabbed the pills and took them dry, and drank the water soon after.

"So, are you okay?"

The young man looked at the other young man whosat there, head cocked to the side in a friendly, curious way. He was irritated when he couldn't find ulterior motives in the boy's expression. (What universe did this kid live in? Was he raised by Care Bears? Or maybe the Sesame Street cast?)

"Why do you care?" He snarled, and felt a slight stab of victory when Yuugi looked away.

Then he looked back, shrugged, and smiled wide.

All in all, it made Kaiba want to throw up again. He sighed as he walked out the door, collapsing under the covers of his bed. A short while later, Yuugi walked in.

"Just leave."

The boy smiled again. "I'll be right across if you need anything!"

"I don't need anything but sleep."

"Good night."

He didn't answer, and the door closed quietly.

* * *

Anzu had no freaking idea why she was looking through her old photo albums.

None, whatsoever.

She supposed that looking at happier memories would make her thoughts stray from the fact that she had befriended the two greatest misfits in the school. Both were unflinchingly good people, but sometimes she wished that people wouldn't look at her like she was _weird._

She had gotten that enough when she had hung out with Ryou anyway.

Why nobody could understand that _these were good people_, she hadn't understood then, when she was nine or ten, and she still couldn't understand it.

Her thoughts quickly strayed to her old friend, and she hunted for the pages with him. They were all clumped together, not spread apart like most of the other pictures. She had gone over all of those pictures when she had found out that he'd died, maybe an hour away from where she went to school, a year after she'd moved and they'd basically lost contact, in his little apartment, all alone. It had quite possibly been the saddest thing she had ever heard, and all of the tears she'd cried had left a bitter taste in her mouth for days afterward.

She quietly traces her finger over the first photo she had ever taken of him (just a little boy, maybe eleven at the very beginning), and tried to look for any traces of what would become of him in his eyes.

She couldn't find anything, not one little thing that pointed over to the fact that six years after that photo was taken, that boy with the sakura blossom in his hair would be found a day too late, wrists slit.

She couldn't find a single sign.

A tear dribbled down her face as she turned the page, continuing her hunt for reasons.


	23. Chapter 22: Outtake Number One

**One Step Short of Angel**

**Track 22: **_I Dreamed a Dream_-Les Miserables

_I dreamed a dream in time gone by.../When hope was high and life worth living/ I dreamed that love would never die..._

AN/ This chapter is directly connected to the end of last one, and it's all in the past, with another weird time line, so...have fun XD Also, the memories are just memories. Some are based on pictures, some not. Also, it's really short. It's basically an outtake, so it has barely any relation with the story at all. These will appear from time to time, mostly having to do with Ryou and his past.

**

* * *

**_Her memory isn't anything shabby, and though she didn't have pictures, she remembered the day she met him quite well._

"Anzu!" Her mother's voice drifted through the house, loud and gratingly high.

"Yeah?"

"Your new babysitter's here!"

She rolled her eyes, because she knew she didn't need a babysitter, considering she wasn't a baby anymore.

"Coming!" She lay her thin book on her bed carelessly, and headed down the staircase to the downstairs of the moderately spacious house.

"Anzu, this is Rilo." The lady gestures at the boy standing a little way behind her.

"Ryou." The boy said in a near-whisper, but was basically ignored.

Rilo-_Ryou _was a very strange looking boy. He seemed young, maybe only a couple of years older than her. Large brown eyes, and neatly combed white (she'd never met anybody under the age of forty with white hair) hair. It ended right above his shoulders, barely brushing the powder blue pullover he wore. He smiled at her a little, a hesitant twitch of light pink lips that seemed vivid against his very white skin.

"I have to leave now," Anzu's mother said, "love you, honey," she kissed the top of Anzu's head and was off.

Leaving the girl staring at the boy.

"Hi." She smiled.

"Hello." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "So...do you need anything?" He had a peculiar accent that she couldn't quite decipher.

"Um...not really." She smiled kindly, but admitted "I don't really need a babysitter, but my parents think I do, so..."

"That's why I'm here?"

"Yeah."

"To act as your entirely unnecessary companion?"

She laughed. "You can be my friend instead."

He smiled.

She learned little things about him over the day, because he didn't seem to be one for talking much, so he probably learned far more from him.

Over the years she learned much more.

But that day she learned that he was eleven, he liked books and his favorite types of movies were musicals, he babysat just 'cause he sort of wanted money, and he was from England, but had moved to Japan when he was ten for reasons he didn't explain.

She figured that she liked him, and when her mother asked if she would like to have Ryou as a regular babysitter, she jumped on the opportunity.

* * *

_The first picture-him at eleven, a few weeks after he began babysitting regularly (usually on short notice, but he was good that way) with a sakura blossom in his hair, in her old back yard, an unassuming smile covering his face._

"Hey, Ryou!" Anzu greeted her friendly acquaintance after her mother left.

"Hello, Anzu."

"I got a new camera! Let me show it to you." She led him to her room, which was a normal girl's room-off-white walls, a bed with a light blue comforter, books lining shelves, stuffed animals on the floor.

She grabbed the new camera from it's place of honor on her night stand. "See? It's digital, and it probably takes really good pictures. Haven't tried it out yet, though." She seemed to get an idea. "It's a nice day, Ryou, how 'bout we go outside?"

"Well...alright."

"C'mon!"

He ran after her outside, a nice back-yard with well-fertilized grass that was a lush green, and nice trees with an over-abundance of leaves.

He sat on a bench under one of those trees as she danced around the backyard in her old ballet slippers (they had been too big, so she had gotten smaller ones).

She held on to her camera, and then looked over at Ryou, a light in her eyes. "Oooh, let me take a picture of you!"

He laughed a little. "No, rather you didn't. I'm not very photogenic."

"C'mon, you'll do fine!" She grabbed a sakura blossom from the bush that was in full bloom and stuck the vivid flower in his hair. "As a friend?" She begged.

"Okay."

He held up the blossom with a slender hand as he smiled brightly.

_Click._

_

* * *

_

_Another picture-him at thirteen (she would have been eleven by then), eyes bright as he stood on a stage, hands flaring next to his sides, looking beautiful and happy as he sang._

He laughed as he twirled around the stage, adding a few tap moves as he sang a song in English that she only knd of understood.

"_Gray skies are gonna clear up-put on a happy face-wipe off the clouds and cheer up-put on a happy face-take off that gloomy mask of tragedy-it's not your style-you'll look so good that you'll be glad you decided to smile!"_

He finally ended with a dramatic flare up of jazz hands and a goofy smile that made her laugh.

"Wow! You're really good! There's a theater putting on a play near here, it's a musical and you could totally get in!"

He laughed. "Thanks, but I don't think I will." His smile faded somewhat. "I prob'ly wouldn't be good enough."

"C'mon, why would you say that?"

"I'm never quite good enough."

"You'll always be good enough."

He just smiled a little tightly and shook his head a little sadly.

* * *

_A glossy but small photo of him that she stole when he was about to throw it away. He's in a football uniform, cleats and shorts and a shiny white shirt that matches his hair._

_

* * *

_

_A nice portrait she took when she started taking Photography at the community center. He was wearing shined shoes, tan slacks, and a cream colored sweater. He'd always had an unfortunate sense of style. She'd always tried to fix it, but ended up just keeping him set in his ways, and liked him better for it.  


* * *

_

_A picture of him a few months before she left-at about...fourteen?...she didn't really know. He looked sad and tired in the picture, because that was the day of the anniversary of the death of his mother and sister._

When she was younger-only nine, after all-after he told her his family was dead (and those were his words), she had been fascinated by this tragedy. As a girl, she had never met an orphan (she never knew that he wasn't really an orphan when she first met him, he had a father, he just didn't consider that man a living being anymore).

She easily remembered asking him, on a rainy day when they could not go out side and she felt bold and he just seemed detached:

"How'd they die?"

He responded. "A car crash in England. It's wet and slippery there, rains all the time."

"Were you sad?"

"Yes."

"And after?"

"After what?"

"Are you still sad?"

"I don't really think of it."

He suddenly looked like he was going to cry, so the girl, feeling bad for being so tactless, picked up her camera as a sudden, weak diversion.

"Smile!"

He didn't.

* * *

_The last memory she has of him, she doesn't have a photograph for, just like the first one. But she could easily remember exactly how he looked, that last year she was with him._

Porcelain skin-he didn't really enjoy going out into the sun.

Painfully thin-he ate, but not enthusiastically.

Soft lips-they never seemed to chap.

Longer hair-he didn't cut it.

The last day she saw him, she was thirteen, he was fifteen.

She had dropped by his apartment to say goodbye one last time.

He had smiled and greeted her, and said how he hoped she'd be happy where she was moving.

She had asked if he was okay, because something had seemed a little off.

Of course I am, he had laughed, don't be ridiculous.

"Ryou, promise we'll stay in touch."

"I promise."

They had both broken that promise.

They'd tried.

But it just never was the same.

* * *

As Anzu flipped through that album, she thought with disdain about how childish, how naive she had been back then. She had never noticed a thing, had only seen Ryou, her best friend. She'd never seen Ryou, the way that he was when he was alone.

She had always thought of it, been worried for him, because that was how she was. Every time she saw him she said hello and then asked if he was okay, even though he always said he was fine.

She had always felt deeply, it was true, and she had always looked out for him, even when people questioned exactly why a pretty girl like Mazaki Anzu was hanging out with a freak like him.

There were so many gaps in those pictures, so many things those moments frozen in time didn't say.

But she had her memories, even though they faded faster than the photographs.


End file.
